


In Loving Silence

by ranguvar82



Series: The Angel and his Artist [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Artist Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Fluff, Gallery Owner Aziraphale, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Love at First Sight, M/M, Mute Crowley (Good Omens), Shibari, Sub Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82
Summary: Aziraphale Fell is a wealthy gallery owner who every year picks an unknown artist to display. This year, he's selected Anthony J Crowley based on his brilliant paintings of outer space. He's already blown away by his talent. But when he meets the artist, he finds himself captivated not only by his beauty, but by his silent way of communicating.Crowley knows what a privilege it is to get into the Fell Gallery. He knows that it means prestige and renown. What he doesn't know is that Aziraphale Fell is about to awaken a part of Crowley that he never knew existed, a part that will do anything to please.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Anathema Device
Series: The Angel and his Artist [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975948
Comments: 248
Kudos: 185
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Fire And Ice

In Loving Silence

Chapter One: Fire and Ice

The sound of Bohemian Rhapsody as played on a mobile phone blasted through the bedroom. From the covers of a very large bed in the middle, a long arm slithered out and grabbed the phone, smashing the alarm button to Off. The arm was followed by a sleepy, tousled head of fire red hair and golden eyes that were still half shut. The occupant sat up, scratching at his tattooed chest, then yawned and shuffled into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face, then took care of his business before cranking the shower to its hottest setting and stepping in, sighing.

He washed his hair, then stepped out and squeezed out the long tresses before wrapping a towel around him and heading back to his room. Once dressed, he went to the kitchen. The fridge yielded a carton of eggs and some ham, so he set about making an omelet.

His phone pinged and he pulled it out of his pocket.

‘Crowley, text me when you get this. Ana’

Crowley opened his phone and scrolled to Anathema’s name in his contacts. ‘What’s up?’

‘Okay, don’t get too excited, but you know about the Fell Gallery, right?’

Crowley did indeed know. Aziraphale Fell was the black sheep of an extremely wealthy family who had opened his own art gallery about ten years ago. Every year since then, he had selected an up and coming artist to exhibit their work. Placement in the Fell Gallery meant prestige. It meant renown, and Crowley had been not so secretly hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would get in.

So with fingers that shook only a little, he texted back. ‘Yeah.’

‘Well, I may or may not have heard a rumor that Fell saw your painting of the supernova that you did a few months ago for Tracy and raved about it for hours to her. Tracy told him you were one of her top sellers.’

Crowley did not punch the air in triumph. ‘The artist selection is on the twelfth, right?’

‘Yeah, and that’s today. Check your email.’

Crowley raced over to his laptop, opening it up and pulling up his email. He deleted the spam messages, then opened his inbox. There was one new message, and the header said **Fell Gallery**.

Heart in his throat, Crowley opened it.

‘Dear Mr. Crowley:

I am pleased to inform you that I have chosen you to be my Upcoming Artist for 2020. I was most impressed by your Supernova painting. Please come by the gallery at your earliest convenience so that I may go over the contracts and terms with you.

Yours Sincerely,

Aziraphale Fell.’

Crowley punched the air in happiness and danced about the room. He grabbed his phone and texted Ana. I GOT IN I GOT IN I GOT IN!

‘AWESOME!’

Crowley bolted down his breakfast then grabbed his cards and ran out of his flat to the car park. He slid into his Bentley and peeled out, leaving twin streaks of rubber.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale Fell of Fell Gallery was having a rather bad morning. First his alarm hadn’t gone off on time, then he had dropped his tea cup and broken it, then while trying to pick the shards up he cut his thumb. Cursing, he wrapped a plaster around it. He was just about to get down another mug when his mobile went off. “Yes, what?”

“Er, sorry to disturb you, Mr. Fell.” It was Newt, the young man that helped him run his gallery.

“What is it, Newt?”

“Erm, well, today’s the day you’re supposed to meet with the new artist.”

Aziraphale cursed under his breath. “Yes, but that’s not until...” he looked at his phone. “FUCK! Please tell me he’s not there.”

Newt gulped. “Uh….”

“Newton.” Aziraphale’s voice was a growl.

“He’s been waiting for the last twenty minutes.”

Aziraphale’s cursing turned the air hot. He threw on some clothes, then raced out to his car, hoping that Mr. Crowley was the understanding sort. He really didn’t want to deal with a diva, no matter how insanely talented he was.

Aziraphale was rarely gobsmacked. In his line of work, he had seen many artists of varying talents. Some he had chosen to exhibit. But Mr. Crowley’s paintings were on a whole different level. He specialized in space, and his paintings made the observer feel as though they were truly in space, looking at the stars and planets. Aziraphale had been visiting his friend Tracy’s gallery, wandering around, when he came across a painting that made him stop dead, mouth open in astonishment. It was of a supernova, and the swirl of colors made Aziraphale’s breath hitch. The artist had painted it in the act of exploding. At first, Aziraphale had been sure it was a photo, so realistic it was.

Tracy had told him the artist’s name and shown him some more of Mr. Crowley’s work, and Aziraphale had decided then and there that he would be the New Artist at his gallery.

Now here he was, twenty minutes late to his own meeting. He parked next to a beautiful old car-a Bentley, he thought-and dashed into the gallery. Newt was at the front. “I told him to wait in your office, Mr. Fell.” Aziraphale nodded his thanks and ran towards his office. He pushed the door open. “I’m so sorry I’m late, I do...apol...” His breath caught in his throat as he got his first glimpse of Mr. Crowley.

He was...he was **beautiful**. Fire red hair done up in a braid that fell to his waist, the sharpest cheekbones he had ever seen, eyes the color of honey, and oh those legs. Long, lean, and encased in a pair of jeans that were almost sinfully tight. His shirt clung to him, and Aziraphale could see the muscles underneath. His arms were bare and covered with tattoos. “As I was saying,” Aziraphale croaked out, “I do apologize for making you wait.” 

For his part, Crowley was experiencing pretty much the same reaction. He hadn’t known what to expect, but a literal angel was definitely not one of them. Fell was beautiful. He blushed, twirling a strand of hair between his fingers and giving the gallery owner a shy smile. Fell went over to his desk and sat, motioning for Crowley to do the same. 

“Now, as I’m sure you know, I only pick the best new artists to exhibit. I was rather impressed by your painting Supernova.”

Crowley grinned. Aziraphale frowned, but continued.

“The way this works, you will have one room in my gallery that will be exclusively for your work. I expect at least five new pieces, but others have done more. The work will be displayed for a full year, and I will take ten percent of any sales made. Is that agreeable to you?” 

Crowley nodded. 

Aziraphale sighed. “My dear, I do wish you would say something.” Crowley looked down at his hands and shook his head. “There’s no need for shyness.” Crowley looked up and shook his head. He placed his hands on his mouth, then on his throat. He shook his head again. Aziraphale blinked. “Are...are you mute?” Vigorous nodding. “Oh.”

Crowley dug into his pocket and pulled out a card, passing it over. Aziraphale took it. 

‘My name is Anthony J Crowley (pronounced Crow-lee) I just go by my last name

I am Mute 

I am Not Deaf/Stupid

Don’t ask what the J stands for’ 

Aziraphale placed the card on the desk. “I take it the third bit was out of necessity?” Crowley snorted. “Yes, I thought it might be. People really can be ignorant arses.” Crowley made a strange whuffing sound, and Aziraphale realized he was laughing. “So, are my terms agreeable?”

Crowley nodded, grinning. Aziraphale dug the contract out and passed it over. “Read that at your leisure.” Crowley flipped to the first page and began reading. Aziraphale watched him. He was even more gorgeous up close, with his strong arms and sharp cheekbones. His skin was a lovely tan color, a sure sign that he spent a great deal of time outdoors. His tattoos were of stars, and Aziraphale wanted to reach out and trace them with his fingers. Crowley’s fingers were long, and he had on glitter nail polish. 

Aziraphale gulped.  It had been so long since he was this attracted to a person, and even longer since he had felt this urgent need to Dominate. He wanted to take Crowley to bed, spread him out and take him apart, piece by piece. Aziraphale was pretty sure the gorgeous redhead would be the perfect Submissive. That hair...Aziraphale pictured it undone, pictured burying himself in it and pulling. Would Crowley like that? Would he enjoy being tied down, blindfolded, and sweetly tortured? Or would he like to be bent over Aziraphale’s sofa and fucked until he couldn’t walk? 

‘What the hell am I doing?!’ Aziraphale thought. He should not be having fantasies over a man he had just met five minutes ago! Even if said man was the most breathtaking person he’d ever met. 

Crowley finished reading the contract and made a signing motion. Aziraphale, his mind still whirling, passed a pen over. Crowley signed and handed him the contract. “Thank you.” Crowley blushed crimson and smiled shyly at him. Aziraphale stood and walked over to where he sat. Crowley looked up at him, eyes wide. “Crowley? Has anyone ever told you that you are quite devastatingly beautiful?” 

Crowley ducked his head, still blushing. Aziraphale placed his hand on his chin, tilting his head up. “You are. You’re breathtaking.” Aziraphale ran a finger down Crowley’s cheek. “Such a beautiful canvas. I wonder how far that blush goes.” 

Crowley’s throat bobbed. Aziraphale traced his ear with his fingers. The gallery owner’s touch was lighting a fire inside him. He leaned forward, eyes shut. Aziraphale caressed his throat, then pressed down. Crowley gasped-but not out of fear. White hot desire raced through him, and he looked up at Aziraphale, his pupils blown wide.  Aziraphale’s hands moved to his shoulders. 

“What I wouldn’t give to see you spread out beneath me.” Aziraphale growled. Crowley’s heart began pounding. “I’m an artist in my own right, you know. The pleasure I could bring you...” Aziraphale whispered. “Do you know what your beauty is doing to me?”

Crowley shook his head. His cock was throbbing in his trousers. Aziraphale was igniting something in him that he hadn’t even realized was there. 

“So lovely...would you give yourself to me, Crowley? Would you let me lay you out and take you apart, piece by piece?”

Crowley nodded. Yes. God, yes he would. He had only known this man for less than an hour, but already he knew that he would do anything he asked. Aziraphale was so commanding, so dominating. Crowley had never experienced anything like it before, and it was the most intensely erotic feeling. 

Aziraphale cupped his face and bent down, pulling him into a deep kiss. Crowley kissed back. Aziraphale knew how to kiss. He slid his tongue along Crowley’s mouth, and Crowley opened up for him, his heart pounding.  Aziraphale tasted of honey, and Crowley chased the taste. 

After several blissful moments, Aziraphale sucked on his lower lip and released him. Crowley fell back against the chair, mouth open. “You taste divine.” 

Crowley placed his fingers on Aziraphale’s mouth, smiling. Aziraphale kissed them, then took them in his mouth and sucked. Crowley sucked in a breath. 

“Hmmm...so good.” Aziraphale said, eyes fixed on Crowley. The artist was shivering, his eyes dark. Aziraphale released his fingers. “Crowley, I would very much like it if you would come to dinner tonight.”

Crowley nodded and pulled a note pad out of his pocket. He flipped it open and wrote, passing the paper over. ‘What time?’ 

“Seven o clock. Be on time. If you aren’t, there will be...consequences.” Aziraphale said the last word in a dark growl, and Crowley felt the twin shivers of fear and desire. Aziraphale wrote on the piece of paper. “This is my address. Remember, seven.” 

Crowley took it, throat bobbing. Aziraphale beamed. “Lovely. Now, would you like to see the room you’ll be exhibiting in?” A soft, shy smile. “Come along.”

The room was a large one, with more than enough  wall space to display the large canvases Crowley favored. The lighting was very good. Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale and gave him two thumbs up. Aziraphale grinned at him. “I’ll expect you to have your paintings hung by next week. Can you do that?” Crowley nodded. “Good boy.” 

Crowley’s face broke out into a wide, happy smile. Aziraphale blinked. Well. That was an interesting development. Apparently the artist had a praise kink. Aziraphale licked his lips. Oh, he could work with this. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Fell?” Newt poked his head in. Aziraphale cursed his ancestors under his breath. 

“Yes, Newt?”

“Err, Miss Simmons is on the line.” Aziraphale groaned. Natalie Simmons was an office drone who fancied herself an artist. She had been pestering Aziraphale for months to be the New Featured Artist, and while he loved plucking talent from the oddest places(his featured artist one year had been a barista who painted landscapes that were slightly distorted, giving them an eerie look that Aziraphale had rather liked), Miss Simmons canvases looked like a monkey had painted them. With his feet. She claimed they were ‘abstract’, but Aziraphale had claimed they were crap. 

“Damn it. Crowley, it was a **pleasure** meeting you.” Aziraphale said in a low voice. Crowley’s throat bobbed and he nodded. “See you at seven.” Aziraphale brushed Crowley’s arm before heading out to his office. “Oh, one more thing. Wear your hair lose.” Aziraphale said before leaving Crowley alone.

Crowley stood in the middle of the room, trembling. He had never felt such an intense attraction in his life. The gallery owner was so assertive, so dominating, so sure of himself. Crowley’s skin seemed to burn where Aziraphale had touched it. And oh, he was so gorgeous. That white blond hair, those ice blue eyes, the thick thighs. Crowley wanted those thighs on top of him, holding him down. He licked his dry lips,  his cock throbbing. He staggered out of the gallery and to his car, eager to get home and get ready for tonight. 

Aziraphale took great satisfaction in telling Miss Simmons that the New Artist had already been chosen before hanging up the phone. He leaned back, eyes closed. His cock was tight in his trousers, and he let his hand drift down, palming himself through the material. “Crowley...” he groaned, imagining that red hair spread out on his silk pillows. Aziraphale wondered if it was soft as it looked. He wanted to run his hands through it, inhale its scent. What would Crowley’s hair smell like? Would it be fruity, floral, or sharp and spicy? What sort of sounds would he make? Could he make any? Or would Aziraphale have to rely on those gorgeous gold eyes? 

His cock was fully erect, and he undid his belt, stroking himself. God, those lips of Crowley’s...so lovely, so thin. Would he enjoy taking Aziraphale’s cock in his mouth? Aziraphale’s hand sped up. He imagined pushing Crowley down on his knees, forcing that mouth open and thrusting in, going deep down his throat. Imagined those eyes blown wide in desire as the red head sucked him down, eager to please…

Aziraphale came with a cry. He collapsed against his chair, panting. He had never done that before. He dug in his drawer and found some wipes. He cleaned up as best as he could before buttoning himself back up. 

If this was his reaction to an imaginary Crowley, he couldn’t wait to experience the real thing. 


	2. Dinner and a Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley comes over for dinner, and the relationship begins.

Chapter Two: Dinner and a Show

Crowley examined himself in the full length mirror in his bedroom. He had spent the entire afternoon selecting and rejecting outfits for dinner tonight. He wanted to look perfect for Aziraphale. Wanted to walk into his home and have the gallery owner’s eyes go dark like they had that morning. He wanted that rich voice to praise him, tell him that he had picked the perfect outfit.

Now, after ten tries, he felt he had hit the nail on the head. He was wearing a dark red button up shirt, the sleeves buttoned, a silver tie scarf, and black trousers with a snakeskin belt. He had on black dress shoes, and on a whim, painted his nails in galaxy swirls. As per Aziraphale’s order, he kept his hair lose, brushing it out so it shone. It hung down to his waist, a shimmering red waterfall.

He took a deep breath, then picked up the items he had purchased on his way back from Aziraphale’s gallery. He hoped Aziraphale liked them. He grabbed his mobile and keys and left the flat. Once in the Bentley, he pulled up Aziraphale’s address and looked up the directions. With traffic, he would arrive there in twenty minutes. Crowley checked the time. 6 30. He pulled out of the car park and drove down the street.

Aziraphale checked the oven for the fifth time. The roast was coming along quite nicely. He poked at the potatoes, smiling. Everything was coming along well. He went over to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of red wine that was sitting on the bottom shelf, along with a platter of fine cheeses that he had made up earlier in the afternoon, just in case dinner wasn’t fully ready when Crowley arrived.

Crowley. God, Aziraphale couldn’t wait to see what he was wearing, but he was more eager to see him with his hair down. Aziraphale had never seen hair as red as Crowley’s. It was intoxicating. He wanted to see that hair spread out on pillows, wanted to see Crowley naked and writhing beneath him while he fucked into him sweet and slow. Or maybe Crowley liked it hard and fast. Aziraphale could and had done both.

Although, Aziraphale thought as he got down his fine china, none of his other partners had ignited such passionate feelings in him. He could count on one hand the ones he had dinner with. Most of the time his sexual encounters had been quick and painless. But those had been years ago. Aziraphale no longer wanted quick. He wanted someone that he could share things with. Someone that wouldn’t leave the next morning, their kink card ticked off. He wanted a Submissive.

His door buzzer sounded, bringing him out of his thoughts. He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and went to answer the door.

“Hello, Crowley.” Aziraphale smiled at the red head, trying not to drool. Crowley with his hair in braids was gorgeous, but Crowley undone was ethereal. His hair shone, falling in soft curls down to his waist. The outfit he had on enhanced his slim build. “You’re right on time. Do come in.”

Crowley stepped into his flat, and Aziraphale noticed he had his hands behind his back. “What’s that?”

Crowley went as red as his hair and shyly reached around to hand Aziraphale a bouquet of wild flowers. Aziraphale felt a soft smile come to his face. “For me?” Crowley somehow managed to blush even deeper and nodded, twirling his hair in his free hand. “They’re lovely. I’ll go find a vase for them. You sit, make yourself comfortable.”

Crowley sank onto the sofa in the living room, looking around. Aziraphale had very good and very expensive taste. The artwork on the walls reflected that, as did the furniture. Crowley, whose flat could be best described as ‘minimalist’, felt a bit overwhelmed.

Aziraphale came back into the room, a plate in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. He set the glass in front of Crowley and sat, placing the plate on the table. It had cheese on it, but they weren’t any that Crowley recognized. Granted, he tended to stick with Cheddar. He picked up the glass and sniffed at it.

“That’s a Malbec. One of the best. Try it with the Stilton.” Aziraphale picked up a piece of cheese with blue veins. He pressed it to Crowley’s lips. “Open.” Crowley opened, and Aziraphale pushed the cheese inside. “Bite down, then take a sip of the wine.” Crowley did, and the combination of flavors flooded his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and opened his mouth again. Aziraphale smirked, then leaned forward and kissed him. “Mmm, lovely flavor. You want more?” Eager nodding. “Okay, how about a nice sharp cheddar next?” Aziraphale picked up the slice of cheese. Crowley leaned forward and took it in his mouth, pulling it out of Aziraphale’s hands. “Cheeky.” Crowley smirked, and Aziraphale’s eyes went dark. He grabbed Crowley’s hair and tugged sharply. “You don’t take things without my permission. Is that clear?” Crowley gulped and nodded. Aziraphale tugged once more, gently. “Good boy. I’ll overlook it, because you didn’t know better.”

Crowley sighed. Aziraphale scolding him was not something he wanted to experience again. He wanted the praise. He would be good for Aziraphale.

Aziraphale picked up another piece of cheese. “This one is a Camembert. Much softer, with a very lovely taste.” He fed Crowley the cheese, leaning in for a kiss after Crowley took a sip of the wine. This time the kiss lasted much longer, with Aziraphale burying his hands in Crowley’s hair with a loud moan. “Oh my god Crowley your hair...so soft...” Aziraphale raked his fingers through it, panting. “Want to see it spread out on my bed...want you in my bed so fucking badly...”

Crowley whined. He wanted that too. He wanted it so much he could taste it.

The oven timer buzzed, and Aziraphale let lose with a string of curses that had Crowley blinking. “Dinner’s ready.” The blond huffed out, lips swollen from kissing. He stood and headed for the kitchen, Crowley following. “Have a seat at the table.” Crowley sat. Aziraphale got the roast out of the oven and transferred it to a platter, slicing it, then carried it out to the dining area and set it down. “I do hope you’re not a vegetarian.” Crowley grinned and shook his head. “Oh good. Help yourself.”

After they had filled their plates, Aziraphale spoke. “We need to go over some things. First, I have to ask if you are aware of the sort of relationship I want us to have.”

A nod.

“You are willing to enter into a Dominant/Submissive relationship with me?”

More nodding.

“Have you ever been in this sort of relationship before?” A blush, and a shake of the head. “The first thing to know is that while I am the Dominant one, you as the Submissive are really in control. This relationship is about bringing us both pleasure, and I cannot do that if my Submissive is hurting. There are some Doms and Subs that enjoy giving and receiving pain, but I do not enjoy that overmuch. However, if you do, I am willing.” A frantic shake of the head. “Very well. You enjoy praise?” A deep blush. “Then that is what our relationship will be. Do you enjoy rough sex?” A nod. “Okay. Now, we need to discuss safe words. As you obviously cannot use words at all, I propose an alternate method. If at any time I am doing something that makes you uncomfortable, and you want me to stop, I want you to squeeze my arm three times. Or if you should be...tied up, I want you to clap your hands twice.” Crowley gulped and nodded. “Good. Now eat before everything gets cold.”

Crowley dug into his roast, making a happy humming sound. Aziraphale smiled at him. “Good?” Crowley rubbed his stomach and gave him a thumb’s up. “Thank you.”

After dinner was done and the dishes put in the dishwasher, Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and led him down the hall to his bedroom. “After you.” Crowley stepped in, gaping at the size of Aziraphale’s bed. He began shaking. Aziraphale stepped in front of him, hands cupping his face. “Are you scared, darling?” Crowley looked down, and nodded. “Hey.” Aziraphale tilted his head up. “You have nothing to be afraid of. I’ll go slow, until we figure out what you enjoy. For now, I would very much love it if you would undress for me.”

Crowley sucked in a breath and began to yank off his tie. Aziraphale’s hands closed over his. “Slowly.” Crowley blushed and carefully undid his tie, pulling it off in a fluid motion. He draped it over a nearby chair, then began unbuttoning his shirt.

Aziraphale had stepped back so he could watch Crowley undress. He watched as the artist unbuttoned his shirt, and gasped. “Oh, Crowley.” He came forward, pressing his hands against the bared chest. “You are a canvas, my dear.” The tattoos were breathtaking, clearly done by a master of the craft. Crowley’s chest was a galaxy of swirling stars and nebulae. “Is there more?” Crowley nodded. He shed his shirt, draped it over the chair, and turned. His back was a riot of flowers of all colors, tangled together in a brilliant pattern. “Stars and flowers? Are those your favorite things?” A nod. Aziraphale leaned in and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. Crowley trembled.

Aziraphale stepped back, head tilted. The pattern of the flowers looked almost like.. “Wings.” Aziraphale breathed out. “You have wings on your back.” Crowley turned to look at him and nodded. “Oh, that is brilliant. Do continue undressing, please.”

Crowley blushed and unbuckled his belt, dragging it through the loops. He kicked his shoes off, then pushed his trousers down, stepping out of them. Aziraphale growled at the sight of him clad in nothing but black silk boxers and socks. Crowley’s cock was straining at the boxers, and a bead of moisture gathered at the tip. “You may sit to remove your socks.” Crowley sat and pulled his socks off, then stood back up and pulled down his boxers. Aziraphale nearly came in his trousers at the sight of Crowley’s long, thick cock. “Oh my god...” He shook himself, then walked over and took him in hand. “Fuck, you have an amazing cock. And it’s all mine.” He punctuated that last word with a sharp tug that made Crowley keen. “Now. You are going to get on the bed and watch me undress. I want you to touch yourself while you watch, but if you come, you will be in trouble. Do you understand?” Vigorous nodding. “Good little pet. On the bed, now.”

Crowley scrambled on to the bed, propping himself up on the pillows so he could watch Aziraphale undress. He placed his hand on his cock, stroking just enough to feel but not so much that he would orgasm. Aziraphale unbuttoned his shirt, and with each patch of firm flesh that was revealed, Crowley felt himself growing impossibly harder. His strokes grew more intense, and he groaned, mouth open and eyes glazed over with lust.

The gallery owner’s thighs were thick and muscular, and Crowley whined from the effort of holding back his orgasm. His entire body was shaking with primal need. Aziraphale pushed down his briefs, and Crowley had to exert every bit of willpower he had to not come at the sight of his magnificent cock. He wanted Aziraphale in him, and he wanted him in NOW. He whined high in his throat, reaching out with his free hand. Aziraphale climbed on to the bed and pinned Crowley to the mattress. “So fucking gorgeous. Do you want to know what I’m going to do?” Eager nodding. Aziraphale reached in between them and took Crowley’s cock in his hand. “Touch me.” Whining in ecstasy, Crowley wrapped his hand around Aziraphale’s thick shaft. “I’m going to kiss you everywhere. Then I’m going to take this lovely cock and suck you until you can’t remember your name. Then I’m going to lube you up real nice and fuck you until the sun comes up. It may take a few times. In between, you will suck my cock. How does that sound?”

Crowley whimpered in anticipation. Aziraphale grinned like a devil and pulled him into a filthy kiss, their tongues tangling together. “Good little pet. Sweet boy. Spread your legs for me.” Crowley obeyed, whining. Aziraphale kissed his neck, then nipped him. Crowley hissed. “Do you not like that?” Aziraphale asked, looking into the honey gold eyes. Crowley shook his head. “You don’t like it?” Another shake, followed by fingers tracing the spot where Aziraphale had bitten, and a pleading look. “You...liked it.” Crowley nodded and pressed down on the spot. Aziraphale’s face lit up in understanding. “You want me to bite you.” Eager nodding. “Do you want me to draw blood?” A shake of the head. “Just enough to leave marks, then?” Crowley gulped and nodded. “I can manage that.”

Aziraphale sucked a kiss into Crowley’s neck, then bit down on the spot. Crowley’s body jerked, and he made the same hissing sound as before, only now Aziraphale realized it was one of intense pleasure. So his little pet liked being marked. That was a welcome surprise. Aziraphale had the feeling his darling redhead was going to be full of surprises.

He made his way down Crowley’s long body, kissing, licking, sucking and biting, leaving his mark all over. Crowley was making so many lovely sounds, moaning, sighing, hissing, and groaning. Aziraphale bit into the soft flesh of his inner thigh and Crowley howled. “Such a good boy you’re being. So good for me.” Aziraphale whispered, kissing the spot he had bitten. Crowley moaned. Aziraphale shifted so Crowley’s cock was level with his mouth. He kissed the tip, and Crowley’s body jerked like a live wire. “Such a beautiful cock.” Aziraphale whispered. He pressed his tongue against it and licked. Crowley’s hands clenched into fists in the sheets. Aziraphale took him in slowly, letting his tongue swirl around the shaft. Crowley was panting above him.

Aziraphale groaned. Fuck, his pet tasted even better than he dreamed. He sucked hard, smiling to himself when Crowley’s hiss got louder. Aziraphale knew he was good at this. He scraped Crowley’s cock with his teeth then bit down. Crowley arched off the bed, a hissing scream pouring from his mouth as he came hard. Aziraphale kept sucking, and Crowley shuddered above him, his cock still pumping out his spend. Aziraphale swallowed it down, then pulled off Crowley with a lewd pop. He lapped up the bits that had missed his mouth, then pressed a loving kiss to the tip. “So fucking delicious, my pet. Are you ready to be fucked?”

Crowley whined. Aziraphale sat up on his haunches and smiled down at him. “Look at you, already so debauched. Your hair is so beautiful. Will you let me hold it while I fuck you?” Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale wrapped his hand around several of the tresses. He tugged them, and Crowley hissed. “I promise not to yank any out. Now, I want you to reach in that nightstand by you and take out the bottle that’s in there.” Crowley leaned over, opened the drawer, and pulled out the bottle. “Remember what I said about lubing you up?” Crowley’s throat bobbed. “I changed my mind. I want you to do it. Open yourself up for me, Crowley. Fuck yourself on your fingers.”

Crowley hissed and uncapped the bottle, pouring the cold lube on his fingers. He bent his legs and arched his hips. Aziraphale grabbed a pillow and put it under him. Crowley slid his fingers into his hole, moaning. His eyes never left Aziraphale’s. The blond’s normally blue eyes were almost black with desire. “Fuck...” Crowley worked his fingers deeper, his hips pistoning slowly. “Don’t fucking stop, Crowley.” Crowley shook his head, panting as he worked his fingers deeper, desperately seeking that spot within. Aziraphale stroked himself, a low growl in his throat. “Good boy, open yourself up for me, I’m going to fuck you like no one ever has, make you mine, my pet, my sweet artist slut, such a good boy...”

Crowley was nearly sobbing from pleasure. God, Aziraphale wasn’t even inside him yet and he already was making Crowley feel the most intense ecstasy he’d ever experienced. He was pretty sure that he could come from Aziraphale’s praise alone. His fingers found what they were looking for and he yelped, arching up. Aziraphale gently removed his hand. “Good, sweet boy. Are you ready?”

‘Yes please please please’ Crowley thought. Aziraphale lined himself up, then slammed into Crowley so hard that the artist’s breath left his body.

Aziraphale, true to his word, fucked him like no one ever had. Crowley wrapped his legs around the plump thighs and held on. Aziraphale was pulling on his hair, and it was incredibly erotic. His thick cock was hitting every nerve ending inside Crowley, and he was kissing and biting him everywhere. Crowley dug his hands into Aziraphale’s back, clawing at him. Aziraphale responded by repositioning himself so he could fuck deeper into him. Crowley screeched in pleasure. Then Aziraphale took hold of Crowley’s cock and began pumping it. Crowley’s vision went white.

When he came to, he was panting like he had run a marathon. He felt limp as an old rag, and he was pretty sure his hair was plastered to his entire body. He couldn’t move.

Aziraphale kissed his sweaty forehead. “You did so beautifully, my love.” Crowley sighed in happiness. “I have an obscenely large shower. Why don’t we get cleaned up? Or would you rather a bath?” Crowley held up two fingers. “The second?” A sleepy nod. “Well, come on then. Think you can walk to the bathroom?” A hesitant nod. “Come along, then.”

Crowley let Aziraphale lead him into the bathroom, a sleepy, dazed, happy expression on his face. Aziraphale guided him to sit on the toilet while he filled the tub with warm water and bath oils. “In you get, love.” Crowley climbed in, sighing. Aziraphale got in, positioning them so Crowley was on his chest. The artist sighed happily, nuzzling him. Aziraphale stroked his hair, then his spine. “Crowley?”

A rumbling hum.

“May I ask the cause of your muteness?”

Crowley looked up into Aziraphale’s eyes and made a motion like he was rocking a baby in his arms.

“You were born with it?”

A nod.

“What’s your preferred method of communicating? Do you have cards? Writing? Sign language?”

Crowley held up three fingers. “All three?” A nod. Aziraphale kissed him. “Would you teach me sign?”

Crowley’s face lit up and he nodded several times. He pressed three fingers to Aziraphale’s heart, then formed his hands into the shape of wings. Aziraphale cocked his head. “I don’t...”

Crowley repeated the action.

“Wings. Um..bird?” A frown, and Crowley pointed up, then repeated the action again. “Heaven?” Happy nodding. Crowley repeated the action once more. “Something that is in Heaven...angels?” More nodding, and Crowley clapped his hands. “Angel. Is that...what you’re signing?” Crowley blushed, then pointed at Aziraphale and made the wing sign again. “You’re calling me Angel. Oh, my sweet.”

Crowley melted.

“I need a name for you, darling.”

Crowley made a petting motion. Aziraphale smiled. “Pet?” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale repeated the motion. Crowley smiled and kissed him. “My darling pet. My sweet boy.”

Crowley made a happy rumbling sound.

They stayed in the tub, kissing and caressing each other, until the water grew cold. Aziraphale led Crowley back to the bed and laid him gently down, stroking him. “You are so beautiful. So lovely. A canvas that I want to spend hours examining. I’m going to go slow this time, my darling. I’m going to savor you.” He kissed Crowley slowly, running his fingers through his long hair. “Such a perfect being...”

Aziraphale fucked him sweet and slow, hitting every nerve, and Crowley felt like he was flying. His angel’s touch burned him, it set him afire, and he knew that he would never get enough of it. Aziraphale was his world now, and he would do anything to keep him.

Aziraphale fucked him four more times that night. Crowley had never experienced so many intense orgasms in his life. Aziraphale’s skill along with the words of praise he growled into Crowley’s ear while he moved inside him was the most powerful aphrodisiac the artist had ever felt.

He also took smug pride in the fact that he had made Aziraphale **scream** his name when he sucked his cock. 

Now they lay tangled up in each other, the silk sheets draped over their lower bodies. Aziraphale kissed his forehead. Crowley, already half asleep, smiled. “Sweet dreams, my darling.”

Crowley pressed closer, humming. Aziraphale stroked his hair, then pulled the sheets over both of them before he drifted off himself, a smile on his face. 


	3. Stars and Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The relationship progresses.

Chapter Three: Stars And Flowers

Crowley stirred into wakefulness, yawning. He blinked, then with a happy sigh, stretched like a cat, his arms reaching up to the ceiling. He looked down at Aziraphale, who was still sleeping, his features peaceful. Crowley gently stroked his hair. It was so soft. Like a cloud. The artist’s fingers itched to capture the moment. Crowley thought. He was sure he had felt a pen and possibly a notepad in the nightstand last night while hunting for the lube. He just hoped his arms were long enough.

He managed to get the drawer open without moving any part of his body but his arms and hands. His long fingers fumbled in the depths, then closed on what Crowley was certain was a pen. He pulled it out, grinning. It was a very nice ballpoint. He dove back in, and pulled out a phone pad, the sort that was used to take down messages in the days before voice mail and answering machines. Crowley flipped to an empty page(but not before admiring his angel’s copperplate writing) and began sketching, his tongue out as he concentrated.

While it was true that Crowley specialized in painting starscapes, he could also draw anything he saw. His art teachers at school had been amazed, and Crowley had been on track to get a scholarship to an art college. But that had been before. Crowley shook himself. He didn’t like to think about that. He added some more curls to Aziraphale’s hair, giving him a halo effect, then made his long, blond lashes a soft gray. The gallery owner’s hands were wrapped around Crowley’s waist, and Crowley sketched his torso, adding the tattoos. Finally, he sketched wings onto Aziraphale’s back, making sure every feather was showing.

“What are you doing, Pet?” Aziraphale’s soft, sleepy voice came. Crowley blushed and pressed the pad close to his heart. Aziraphale sat up, pulling the artist into his arms. “You drawing something?” A deeper blush and a nod. “May I see?” Crowley shyly extended his arm, letting Aziraphale see the drawing. “Oh, pet. Is that me?” Furious blushing, followed by a curious tilt of the head. Aziraphale grinned and kissed him soundly on the lips. “I love it, my sweet. You made me an angel.” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale placed the pad back on the nightstand, then pulled Crowley into a passionate kiss. Crowley kissed back, purring low in his throat. “You are a wonder, pet. A marvel.”

Crowley wiggled, his smile so wide Aziraphale was sure it had overtaken his face. His golden eyes were bright with happiness, and he was making a purring sound, much like a cat. Aziraphale rather loved it. “What would you like for breakfast, sweet one?” Crowley furrowed his brow, then brightened. He made a motion like he was pouring something, then mimed eating. Aziraphale frowned. Crowley huffed, then held up a finger. He grabbed the pad and flipped to an empty page and scribbled furiously before ripping the page off the pad and pressing it into Aziraphale’s hands.

Aziraphale looked at it and laughed. “Pancakes?” Crowley nodded eagerly. “I think that could be arranged.” Crowley wiggled and clapped his hands. Aziraphale shook his head, still laughing. “Only thing is, pet, I don’t have the ingredients here. So, we’re going out for breakfast. How does that sound?” Crowley nodded. “Good. Why don’t you get a shower and dressed. I’ll take one after you.”

After they had showered and gotten dressed, Aziraphale and Crowley headed down to the car park. Aziraphale looked over at the artist. “Would you like to take your car? I’ll give you directions.”Crowley grinned and opened the passenger door. “Why, thank you, pet.” Aziraphale said, sliding in. The Bentley’s seats were very comfortable. Crowley got in the driver’s seat and looked expectantly at Aziraphale. “Right. Go down this street about a half mile, then turn right and go for a mile, then make a left. The restaurant will be on the right side of the road.” Crowley nodded, then gunned the engine and peeled out of the car park. Aziraphale shut his eyes and prayed.

Crowley drove like a bat out of hell, slaloming around cars and narrowly missing a few pedestrians. Aziraphale held on to the door handle and tried very hard to not whimper in terror. The Bentley roared into the restaurant’s car park, and Aziraphale’s heart resumed its normal pace. “Crowley.” Aziraphale’s voice was shaking. “Do you always drive like that?” Crowley shrugged. “Right. Well, if you ever drive like that with me in this car, I will be very cross. Am I clear?” He asked in a low, dark growl. Crowley hung his head. Aziraphale gently grasped his chin. “I am sorry, pet, but you did give me quite the fright.” Crowley shook his head. ‘I know you didn’t mean to. Now come on, let’s eat. I’m feeling rather peckish myself.”

They went into the restaurant and got a booth. Crowley slid in next to Aziraphale and rested his head on his shoulder, pressing against him. “You want me to pet you?” Another nudge. Aziraphale smiled and began carding his fingers through Crowley’s hair. The artist rumbled in happiness. Aziraphale opened the menu one handed, scanning it. “They have lovely pancakes here. Extremely fluffy, and they come with your choice of meat. What would you like?” Crowley’s finger tapped on the menu. “Bacon?” Crowley nodded. “Do you want to order?” Crowley sighed and shrugged.

A waitress came over, a bored expression on her face. “Hi my name’s Linda I’ll be your server whaddaya want to drink?” Aziraphale blinked, a little perturbed at her tone, but politely placed his order for a cup of English Breakfast. She scribbled it down then looked at Crowley. “And for you?”

Crowley made a pouring motion. Linda huffed. “Look, I ain’t got time for charades. Just tell me what you want.” Crowley bit his lip, then brightened. He grabbed a napkin and pulled a pencil out of his pocket. He sketched on the napkin and handed it to Linda. She glanced at it. “I don’t need a drawing. Tell. Me. What. You. Want.” Crowley growled in frustration and placed his hands on his mouth, shook his head, then placed them on his throat. “Oh my god! Just fucking speak, you idiot!”

Crowley shrank back in the booth, eyes bright with tears. He shook his head and repeated the action. Linda blinked. “Oh, can you not speak?” Crowley shook his head. “Oh, I am sorry.” She leaned in, speaking in a slow tone. “What. Would. You...” she pointed to Crowley, who blinked at her in confusion. “Like to drink?” She made a drinking motion. Crowley snarled and pointed to the sketch. “We have coffee. Tea. Sooodaa. Watteer. What would you like?”

Aziraphale had had enough. “He wants coffee, you bint. How do you take it? Cream? Sugar?” Crowley shook his head. “Black coffee.”

Linda smiled at Aziraphale. “You’re so nice to bring him out for breakfast. Does he understand what you’re saying?”

“Of course he does!” Aziraphale sputtered. Crowley buried his face in his shoulder.

Linda was still smiling. “And what does he want for breakfast?”

“Miss, Crowley is a fully grown adult. I would appreciate it if you would treat him as such, and direct your questions to him.” Aziraphale said, his voice dangerously low. Linda chuckled.

“It’s so sweet that you think that. But everyone knows that muties are mentally...well, not all there. It’s brain damage that causes it, you know. Something goes wrong upstairs.”

Aziraphale took several deep breaths. “Get me your manager. NOW.” Linda huffed and stalked away.

Crowley bit his lip. He was not going to cry in public. Not in front of his angel. Not when he had experienced this sort of ableism and bigotry many times before. He was used to it. He was…

Aziraphale gently rubbed his neck and that made the dam break. Crowley’s tears soaked his shirt as the artist trembled from the force of his sobs.

A man in an ill fitting suit came over to their booth, a plastic smile on his face. “I’m the manager, what can I do for you gentlemen?”

Aziraphale’s smile could have rivaled a shark’s. “First, you can tell your waitress that I do not appreciate her treating Crowley like a mental deficient simply because he is mute. Second, I want our meals comped. Both of them.”

“Well, I’m not sure I can do that, and well, come on, he can’t really understand you. He just pretends to.” the manager said. Aziraphale held up a hand.

“You do not understand. That is not a request. You will comp our meals as an apology to Crowley. And you will not speak of him in that manner.”

The manager glared at him. “Just who do you think you are? You can’t just tell me what to do!”

Aziraphale smirked. “Yes. I can.” The manager snorted.

“I’m not going to be browbeaten by a pansy. You know what? I’m going to call the owner. He’ll straighten you out.” He pulled out his mobile and dialed a number.

Aziraphale grinned and placed his mobile on the table. It started ringing. The manager looked at it, then at Aziraphale, his face parchment white. Aziraphale picked his mobile up. “Hello, this is the owner. Do as I asked or I will fucking fire you right now.” Shaking, the manager ran back to the kitchen.

Crowley gazed at Aziraphale in awe and worship. “Suppose you’re wondering how I came to own a restaurant?” A nod. “Well, technically I’m only one of the owners. My cousin Michael does the day to day business. I come in once in a while to help when things are slow at the gallery. See, I loaned Michael the money to buy the place, so she has me as co owner.”

Crowley blinked and rubbed his fingers together. Aziraphale chuckled.

“My dear, I am obscenely wealthy. Don’t you recognize my last name?” Crowley shook his head. “Ah, well, that’s not too surprising. Fell Industries. Software, and well, spyware.” Crowley’s jaw dropped and he pointed at Aziraphale. “Yep.” Crowley made a painting motion. “The gallery is me telling my parents ‘Fuck you, I’m not going to be like you.’ See, I’m a bit of a black sheep. Not only because I’m gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide, I also have this appalling tendency, at least according to my parents, to make friends with the wrong sort. Artist types, you see. My parents only like art if it goes with their decor, where as I like it for its own sake. I moved out as soon as I could.”

Another waitress came over and took their order. After they finished eating, Aziraphale had another talk with the whey-faced manager, then linked Crowley’s arm in his and walked out. “So apart from that horrid waitress, did you enjoy your breakfast?”

Crowley nodded and pulled out his pad. ‘I’m used to it.’ He handed the paper to Aziraphale, who frowned.

“My sweet, you should not have to be ‘used to it.’ You were treated appallingly.”

‘People learn I’m mute, they assume that my brain doesn’t work right. I’ve lost count the no. of times I’ve been talked down to or treated like I’m less than human.’

“Oh, my darling. It still hurts, though?”

Crowley gulped back tears and nodded. He slid into the Bentley. Aziraphale got in, buckling himself up. “Remember what I said.” Crowley gave him a watery smile and pulled out at a reasonable pace.

When they arrived back at Aziraphale’s flat, Crowley sat on the sofa and began writing. Aziraphale sat next to him, and Crowley shifted so he could place his head on his shoulder and still be able to write. He filled one page, then another, until he had four pages of his close, precise writing. He set his pencil down on the table and pressed the pad into Aziraphale’s hands.

Aziraphale draped one arm over Crowley, stroking his arm as he read.

‘Anthony J Crowley’s Story

_I was born on May 1, 1987. My parents had been trying for a long time to have kids, and they were real happy when I was born. They named me Anthony after my great grandfather._

_I was a pretty normal baby, except I never cried or made any noise. Mum just figured I was a quiet kid, so she didn’t think much of it. I was a bit rambunctious, but not bad. I also loved to draw. One of my earliest memories is Dad coming home with a big sheet of butcher paper and crayons, and me going to town. Don’t remember what I drew, though._

_So fast forward to my third birthday. By now, Mum and Dad are getting real worried because I still haven’t spoken a word. But hey, maybe I’m a late bloomer. It happens. Like that old joke about the kid that doesn’t speak until he’s five because up until then, everything’s been fine. Mum’s worried, so she takes me to the doctor. He pokes and prods, finds nothing wrong, and sends us to a speech pathologist. I’m examined, and the diagnosis comes back. Mutism. Turns out that the part of my brain that controls and creates speech was somehow..atrophied._

_Mum and Dad were upset, of course, but they rallied. Taught me sign language, let me use pictures to ask for things before I learned to write. Mum even made sure my teachers treated me like any other student. (I wasn’t very good in school. Got bored real quick. Did great guns in art class, though.)_

_I was all set to go to Uni for art, when Dad got sick. Cancer. It ate him up. He went from a strong man to a walking skeleton. Any money that might have been for college was eaten up by hospital bills. Mum had to take two jobs just to make ends meet, and I dropped out to help around the house. After Dad died, Mum went into a major depression. She barely acknowledged my existence._

_Before Dad got sick, he had started a backyard garden. I’d help him weed and plant, and really loved it. Now it became sort of my sanctuary, a way for me to still feel that connection. Dad’s the one that also instilled my love of space. I painted my first space scene a month after he died. I had been missing him something awful, and painting it...felt like he was there._

_I got Mum some help, and she’s doing a hell of a lot better. She’s the one who got me in touch with Tracy(they went to school together)._ _Tracy put up some of my work, and well, the rest you know.’_

Aziraphale set the pages down. “So all of your paintings, they’re in memory of your father? And your tattoos?” Crowley nodded. “That is so sweet. My only memories of my father are of how condescendingly smug he could be.” Crowley giggled, then took off his shirt. He took Aziraphale’s hand and placed it on a tattoo of a shooting star just above his heart, then held up one finger. “Was that your first one?” Crowley nodded.

‘Memory of seeing a meteor shower for the first time with him.’

“And the flowers on your back?”

‘The garden we had at home. Made the wing pattern to remind myself he’s in Heaven.’

“What beautiful memories. Thank you for sharing them with me, my pet.” Aziraphale said. Crowley smiled and climbed into his lap, straddling him. Aziraphale mock glared at him. “Cheeky, aren’t you? You think just because you take your shirt off that means that I’m going to want to have my wicked way with you?” Crowley grinned and nodded. Aziraphale wrapped his hair in his hands and pulled. “You’d be right.” He growled before kissing Crowley. “Hmm...why don’t you be a good little pet and suck my cock? If you can make me come in...less than five minutes, I’ll give you a treat.”

Crowley whined and slid to his knees in front of Aziraphale, undoing his belt and taking him down to the hilt. He looked up at the blond, and Aziraphale nodded. Crowley sighed and began sucking, working Aziraphale’s cock with his tongue, lips, and teeth. Aziraphale sighed his name. “Good little pet. Suck my cock, my sweet boy. Your mouth is so hot, so sweet. Do you want me to fuck that hot mouth, my pet? Do you want me to hit the back of your throat?”

Crowley whined high in his throat and grabbed for Aziraphale’s hands. The blond buried them in his hair, tugging hard, and Crowley howled around his cock and sucked harder. Aziraphale let lose with a string of profanities and began fucking into Crowley’s mouth. “Fuck yes my good boy my sweet pet you take my cock so well, Crowley, so good...so fucking good my darling...my...” Aziraphale howled as he came down Crowley’s throat. “Oh, my good boy...”

Crowley purred, looking up at Aziraphale in hope.

“Hmm..four minutes. You get a treat. Stand up, take off your trousers, and bend over the sofa.” Crowley hastened to obey. Aziraphale came over and stroked his ass. “God, so fucking perfect. Do you want to know what your reward is?” Crowley looked over his shoulder and nodded. “I’m going to fuck you nice and hard. Would you like that, my pet?” Crowley moaned. “I thought you would.” Aziraphale smirked, then delivered a firm smack to Crowley’s ass. Crowley hissed. “Now, I don’t feel like going all the way into the bedroom for the lube, so I’m going to fuck you raw. Remember, if you want me to stop, squeeze my arm.” Crowley whined in agreement. “Good little pet.” Aziraphale whispered before pushing inside. Crowley hissed in pleasure, arching up. Aziraphale sighed. “So tight for me, my love...god...so perfect.” He bottomed out, then began moving. Crowley gripped the arm of the sofa and whined in pleasure. He had never felt so full in his life. Aziraphale’s cock was magic, it was addicting, and Crowley would never get enough of it. The blond was kissing and biting Crowley’s back and shoulders, leaving his mark everywhere. Crowley’s own cock ached with need, and he reached for it. Aziraphale’s hand closed over his. “No.” The word was a harsh growl. “You are not allowed to touch yourself. You will come when I give you permission, do you understand?” Crowley whimpered. “I’ll take that as a yes. Hands on the sofa arm. Do it.” Crowley hastened to obey. “Good pet.” Aziraphale growled before resuming his pace. Crowley howled. “You’re doing so well, my darling, taking my cock so wonderfully, I could fuck you for hours and never tire, the sweet sounds you make, my gorgeous darling, my perfect pet, you’re so good, so very good...”

Crowley was in agony. He was in Heaven. He needed to come. His entire body was trembling from the effort of holding back, but he didn’t dare disobey Aziraphale. He couldn’t, wouldn’t disobey him. Aziraphale was his god. He wanted, needed his blessing, his praise. He would do anything he wanted. Be anything he wanted.

“So good, so fucking perfect...you must be in such sweet agony, my pet...”

Crowley whined. He was, but he was also in the most perfect bliss he had ever felt. Aziraphale bit into his shoulder, and Crowley howled in joy.

“You’ve been so good for me, my darling. Come now. Come for your angel...let go for me, my darling pet...”

Crowley screeched as he came, his vision going white. He was vaguely aware of Aziraphale’s own cry as the blond came deep inside him, fucking Crowley through his own powerful orgasms. He came back to awareness slowly. Aziraphale kissed him between the shoulder blades. “So fucking perfect, my sweet one.”

Crowley purred at the praise. Aziraphale stroked his hair. “Such a good boy. So good for me, so eager to please.” Crowley sighed. Aziraphale pressed himself against him, kissing his neck. “Would you do something for me, my darling?” Crowley nodded. “Would you paint me a picture? Something that’s just for me, not the exhibit?”

Crowley turned so he could look at the other man. He smiled. Aziraphale kissed him. “I can get you anything you might need.” Crowley’s smile got bigger. He made a painting motion, then cocked his head. “Of course you may still do the paintings for the exhibit. If you...need to go home and work on them, you may.”

Crowley frowned. Going home meant going away from Aziraphale. He didn’t like that idea. He wanted to stay with his angel always. Aziraphale stroked his face. “Do you want to stay here?” Crowley nodded eagerly. “Well, it just so happens I have a spare room that would be perfect for a studio. I could send for your equipment, and you could paint here.”

Crowley sighed a happy sigh and leaned forward, rubbing his head on Aziraphale’s chest.

The blond dropped a kiss on Crowley’s head, echoing the redhead’s sigh. Stars, but he loved this man.


	4. Paints and Passions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's work is exhibited, Ana meets Newt, and Crowley gets a bit tied up.

Chapter Four: Paints and Passions

“Do please be careful with that!” Aziraphale snapped irritably at the young men currently manhandling one of Crowley’s paintings(it depicted the Horse Head Nebula) onto its space on the gallery wall. “These paintings are worth more than your job, so try to act like it.” The workers nodded, and Aziraphale sighed, running his hands through his hair.

Setting up the New Artist exhibit was always stressful for him, but this year the stress was multiplied by the fact that he wanted the display to be perfect for his love. He always set up in secret, wanting his new artist to be just as surprised as his customers, and he fervently hoped that Crowley would be pleased.

Dear, sweet Crowley. They had been together now for two weeks, and the artist’s devotion to Aziraphale had not diminished. Every time Crowley looked over at him, it was with such love and loyalty that Aziraphale often felt overwhelmed by it. Crowley worshiped the ground he walked on.

As for Aziraphale, he was so deeply in love that he was drowning in it. Crowley was everything he ever wanted in a Submissive. He would sleep curled up against Aziraphale, his strong arms tight around the gallery owner’s waist. Aziraphale could pet his hair for hours at a time, and Crowley’s willingness to try new things in bed was intoxicating. He did have his limits, though. He loved being bitten, and spanking was okay if Crowley was given step by step instructions on what Aziraphale was doing, but anything else that involved lasting pain was an absolute no go. He loved being tied up, so long as he could still use his hands to ‘safeword’ out. Any form of praise left him a sobbing wreck.

A clattering sound jerked Aziraphale back to the present. “If you’ve broken anything!” He threatened the workers, looking around for the source of the noise. One of the workers had knocked a ladder over. Aziraphale sighed in relief. The paintings were almost all hung. He pulled out his mobile and scrolled to Crowley’s number.

‘Angel: Are you awake, Pet?’

‘Pet: Yes Master why’

Aziraphale felt a shiver of desire. Crowley had begun calling him Master a week ago, and it never failed to get the blond going.

‘Angel: Come to the gallery, darling. Surprise.’

‘Pet: Be there in 20 Master need to shower’

‘Angel: Good little pet.’

‘Pet: **heart emoji**

Aziraphale pocketed his phone. “OI! Be careful, you idiots!” He sighed. This was going to be a long morning. 

The last painting was hung, and the workers left. Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief and headed into his office to wait for Crowley. He fiddled around on the computer for a bit, doing some updating on the gallery’s website. 

There was a knock on the door, and Newt poked his head in. “Mr. Crowley is here, sir.” Aziraphale lit up. 

“Send him in, Newt.” 

Crowley came into the office, and Aziraphale’s breath caught. Fuck, but his lover was so beautiful. He had on a black shirt and wine red trousers with his trademark snakeskin belt and shoes. He had braided his hair, and the braid hung over his shoulder, tied up with a dark red ribbon. As he came closer, Aziraphale saw he had painted his nails to look like moons. “You can go now, Newt.” Newt blushed and left the office, shutting the door behind him. Aziraphale pushed back his chair. “Come here, my sweet.” 

Crowley crossed the room in two strides and slid onto Aziraphale’s lap, wrapping his arms around him. ‘Master.’ Aziraphale tugged gently on the braid. 

“This is lovely, pet.” 

Aziraphale had learned very quickly that while Crowley having his hair lose was intensely erotic in bed, it presented a hindrance otherwise. Crowley was constantly getting it caught in things. So Aziraphale had permitted him to wear it in braids except when they were in bed(and was pleased to find that the act of watching Crowley unbraid his hair made him extremely horny). Crowley would add things to the braid.  Usually it was a ribbon, but once he had woven dried flowers into his hair. Aziraphale had loved that. 

‘So what’s up?’ Crowley signed. Aziraphale was still a bit hesitant with sign, but he answered as best as he could. 

‘Exhibit. It’s ready.’ Crowley’s face lit up and he beamed. Aziraphale kissed him soundly. ‘Want to go see?’ Happy, eager nodding. Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, you’re going to have to get up. I can’t teleport.” 

Crowley pouted but slid off Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale stood. “Come along, darling.” Crowley slipped his hand into the blond’s softer one, linked their fingers together, and let his master lead him down the hall. When they reached the space for Crowley’s exhibit, Aziraphale stopped. “Close your eyes, my sweet.”Crowley shut his eyes, and Aziraphale led him into the room, walking him to the middle so he would be able to see everything. “Okay, open.”

Crowley opened his eyes, gasped, and began crying happy tears. Aziraphale had hung his paintings perfectly. Anyone coming into the room would feel as though they were in outer space. The artist felt Aziraphale’s hand on his arm. “Do you like it, my love?” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale pulled him into his arms. “Good. Oh, Crowley. I love you so much, you know.” Crowley sighed and pressed his forehead to Aziraphale’s. ‘Love you too.’ They shared a sweet, chaste kiss. “Now, the official opening for the exhibit will be tonight  at seven . It’s black tie, and I’ve got a tuxedo for you. It should be ready soon, we just need to go pick it up. Also, as my very special artist, you can invite one person to the Gala.” 

Crowley smiled. ‘Ana.’ 

“Okay. Give her a call, and I’ll have a ticket set aside for her.” 

‘Can’t call, Master.’ Crowley signed, a cheeky grin on his face. Aziraphale rolled his eyes and smacked him lightly on the arm. “You know what I meant, fiend.” Crowley snickered and pulled out his mobile.

Crowley: Hey u busy tonight

Witch Girl: No y?

Crowley: Exhibit tonight at Fell’s. Come?

Witch Girl: Yea I wish. Too expensive 

Crowley: I can get u in.

Witch Girl: OMG HOW 

Crowley  **blush emoji** Will xplain tonight. Starts at 7. Fancy dress. Ticket will be at counter.

Witch Girl: DEF BE THERE. And you’d better tell me!

Crowley: Will do.

He pocketed his mobile, smiling. ‘All set.’ Aziraphale grinned. 

“Well, we have quite some time until the Gala, and I do not intend to spend all of it here. We’re going to lunch, and then to a few other places before we pick up our tuxedos.” Crowley followed after him. 

Their first stop was an Italian restaurant. Crowley ordered clams linguine and Aziraphale had veal Parmesan. They split a bottle of decent red, and for dessert Aziraphale got a tiramisu and fed some of it to Crowley, relishing the way his thin lips wrapped around the spoon as he swallowed the sweet confection.  He kissed Crowley after each bite, not caring if people saw. 

After lunch they walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand. Crowley looked in the shop windows. All of a sudden, he stopped at one of the stores. Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh when he saw the sign. ‘Art For All’. “You want to go in, love?” Crowley nodded. “Very well.” Crowley did a happy wiggle and dashed into the store, pulling the laughing Aziraphale along. 

“Hello and welcome to Art For All! I’m Sherri, the owner.” The perky young lady behind the counter said as they entered. “Have you ever been here before?” Crowley shook his head. “Well, we offer supplies as well as classes for beginners up to advanced. Feel free to look around. All the work you see was done by our students, and any sales go to upkeep and maintenance for the store, as well as paying for any supplies. Oh, and every Friday we have our Sip and Paint. We provide wine and nibbles.”

“Sounds fascinating,” Aziraphale said in genuine interest. He went over to the paintings, examining them with a critical eye. “Some of these are quite good. This one, the ruined barn, who painted that?” 

Sherri looked pleased. “That one’s mine, actually.’

Aziraphale whistled. “You have an eye for composition, my dear. Do you enjoy painting?” Sherri nodded. “It shows. Crowley love, what do you think?” Crowley came over and examined the painting. He looked over at Sherri, then back at the painting and gave her two thumbs up.

“Oh, thank you.” Sherri said. Crowley gaped at her. “I’ve got a cousin that’s deaf. Are you?” Crowley shook his head and placed his hands on his mouth. “Mute?” A nod. 

Aziraphale went over to the counter while Crowley continued to rifle through the art supplies. “My dear, you have immense talent. Now, I’ve already  chosen my New Artist of the Year, but I happen to know that my friend Tracy is looking for an artist.” He slid a card onto the counter. “Call her and say that Mr. Fell recommended you.” 

Sherri’s jaw dropped. “You...you’re Fell? As in Fell Gallery Fell?”

Aziraphale inclined his head. “I am indeed.”

Sherri squeed. “Oh my god, it is such an honor to meet you! You displayed my friend Gina three years ago! She did the black and white photos!” Aziraphale nodded. He remembered her well. A vivacious young woman with a wonderful eye. “Gina said it was the best experience she’d ever had! She still gets commissions based on that! So who’s the new artist?”

Crowley waved and pointed to himself. Sherri grinned. “That’s awesome. Are you a painter, sculptor, photographer?” Crowley held up one finger. “What do you paint?” Crowley pointed up. “Space?” Two thumbs up. “Wait a sec. Mr. Fell called you Crowley. As in Anthony Crowley?” A nod. “Oh man, I saw your stuff at the Littleton Gallery last month! Are you sure you’re not a photographer?” Crowley grinned and nodded. “Look uh, feel free to pick out anything you like. I’ll give you an employee discount. Oh my god, wait ‘til I tell my students that I met Mr. Fell! They won’t believe it!” Sherri gushed. Aziraphale grinned. 

“Crowley, if you want to buy something you may.” Crowley’s face lit up. Sherri reached under the counter and pulled out a sheet of paper. 

“I know how weird this might sound, but could I have your autograph?” 

Aziraphale beamed. “Of course, my dear.” He picked up a pen from the counter and wrote, ‘Sherri: Keep painting and dreaming. Aziraphale Fell.’ He handed the paper back, and Sherri carefully folded it before placing it in a drawer. 

“I’m gonna have that framed.” 

Crowley came up to the counter loaded down with supplies. He had twelve canvases of varying sizes, pots of paint, sketchbooks, colored pencils and paintbrushes. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow as he deposited the pile on the counter. “Is that all?” Crowley nodded. “Well then, ring us up please.”

After depositing the supplies in the Bentley, they continued their walk. Aziraphale went into a used bookstore and came out with a pile of his own, then Aziraphale took Crowley into a jewelry shop and let him pick out some earrings and a necklace, as well as a few accessories for his hair. 

Their last stop before the tailor’s was  a shop with tinted windows that simply said EDEN. Aziraphale pushed the door open and they stepped into the cool interior. Crowley looked around, eyes wide. Aziraphale grinned. “First time in a sex shop, love?” Crowley’s deep blush said it all. “Well,  no worries. The merchandise here is of the highest quality. I’ve known Samuel, the owner, for years.” Crowley frowned. “He’s a friend, pet. Nothing more. Jealousy is not a good look on you.” Aziraphale said sharply. Crowley whimpered and hung his head. “You’re forgiven.” Aziraphale said, and Crowley wiggled in glee. “Samuel!”

A tall, distinguished looking man with salt and pepper hair emerged from the depths of the shop. “Zira, darling!” 

Aziraphale groaned. “I  **hate** that nickname and you know it,  **Sam.** ” He clasped the other man’s hand in a firm shake. “Good to see you.”

“And you. I haven’t seen you in ages, darling. Oh my, who is this gorgeous creature?” Sam raked an appreciative gaze up and down Crowley. “Zira, wherever did you find such a magnificent specimen, and are there more like him there?”

Aziraphale preened. “This is my new pet. Crowley, this is Samuel.” Crowley shook his hand. 

Samuel grinned. “Zira, I am insanely jealous. You must tell me where you found him.”

“He’s my New Artist. Crowley darling, do go look around and see if there’s anything you might like.” Crowley nodded and set off. “The minute I met him, I wanted him. As soon as the contract for my gallery was signed, I made my move. And he was more than willing.”

“He’s the quiet type.”

Aziraphale nodded. “You could say that. He’s mute.” Samuel’s jaw dropped. “Oh yes. I’m learning sign, but we also communicate through writing and sketching.”

“What about safe words?”

“Three squeezes to my arm, or if I have him tied he claps his hands twice. He’s got a massive praise kink.”

Crowley came back up front with his hands full of ropes and blindfolds. He also had some lacy panties of varying colors. He set them on the counter and looked pleadingly at Aziraphale. The blond began sorting through the pile. “You picked out some lovely ones, Pet. We can have fun with these. Have you ever done Shibari, Pet?” Crowley shook his head. “I think you’ll enjoy it. My rig is still in very good shape, I just need to pull it out of my closet. These panties are quite nice.”

‘Thought maybe I could wear them around the flat. Only them.’ Crowley signed, and Aziraphale’s eyes went dark. 

“Ohh...yes.” He turned to Samuel. “We’ll take the lot.”

“You got it.”

**Later that night**

Crowley adjusted his tie, smiling. He had never worn a bespoke tuxedo before. It clung to him in all the right places, and was extremely comfortable. The shirt was a deep red, with a black suit jacket and dark red tie. The trousers were black, and he had on black dress shoes polished to a high sheen. He was wearing the necklace Aziraphale had purchased for him, a gold chain with a planet pendant, as well as the moon earrings he had also bought. His nails were painted with shooting stars, and he had done his hair up in an elaborate braid, threading golden ribbons throughout. 

“I don’t believe it.” Aziraphale’s voice made him turn and gasp. His master was dressed in cream and gold that made his hair shine and set his eyes off brilliantly. “How is it you are even more beautiful?” 

‘You too.’ Crowley signed, blushing. Aziraphale came over and kissed him. 

“Ready, my darling?” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale pressed his hands to Crowley’s chest. “When we get back, I am going to peel you out of this and fuck you until sunrise.” Crowley whimpered. “Come along, Pet.” Crowley followed obediently. 

The gallery was all set up by the time they arrived. Newt, looking nervous as always, was sitting up front, the list of guests in his hand. “You have the extra ticket?” Aziraphale asked. Newt nodded. 

“Yes sir, Mr. Fell. Everything’s all ready in the exhibit. The caterer’s all set up, and the placards have all been put with the paintings.” 

Aziraphale beamed. “Wonderful. Crowley, are you ready?” 

Crowley took a deep breath and nodded. He was nervous, but also very excited for the art world to see what he could do. 

At seven o clock sharp, people started coming in. There were art critics, art lovers, and a few rich people who wanted to see if Fell’s New Artist was worth investing in. Every single one of them were in awe of Crowley’s talent. They cornered him, gushing praise, and Crowley blushed and grinned. A few were put off by his muteness, but the majority didn’t care, perfectly willing to wait while he wrote responses and handed them over. 

“Crowley!” A familiar voice made him turn. He grinned as Anathema came over, pulling him into a hug. “Congratulations again, and thanks for the ticket. By the way, what’s the guy’s name at the counter? He’s kind of adorable.”

Crowley laughed in his silent way. ‘Newton, but everyone calls him Newt.’

“Newt. I’ll have to remember that. Think I’ll ask him to dinner. So, how were you able to get me in?”

‘Um...can we go someplace private?’ Ana nodded, and Crowley led her to an empty room. ‘Anathema, do you...um..know what a Dom/Sub relationship is?’ Crowley wrote before handing Ana the paper.

“Yeah, why?”

‘Um...I’m Aziraphale’s Submissive.’ 

Ana blinked, then grinned. “Wait. You’re telling me that soft looking blond is a  **Dom?** ” Crowley nodded. “Huh. Who would have guessed. So when did this start?”

‘Um...about two hours after I met him. I’d already signed the contract, so he wasn’t holding anything over me. He told me I was beautiful, and what he wanted to do to me. It...god, Ana it was intoxicating, how confident and commanding he was. Still is. I’ll do anything for him, and well, he’ll do anything for me.’ 

Ana laughed. “So that’s how you got me a ticket. You lucky bastard, you got a Sugar Daddy and a Dom.”

Crowley giggled. ‘I guess I do.’ 

“So, uh..what do you call him?”

‘That is none of your business.’ 

“Fine, keep your secrets. Now come on, I want a tour of the gallery.”

“You did wonderfully tonight, darling.” Aziraphale said as he set up his rig. “I sold quite a lot of your paintings. I also noticed Newt and Miss Device left together. Seems they took quite the shine to one another.” 

Crowley smiled from his position on the bed. He was on his knees, his arms tied behind his back, and more elaborate knots on his back and chest. The rope was very comfortable. He had on one of his new blindfolds, and he was already halfway into subspace, his head feeling wonderfully floaty. 

“There! That’s got it. Remember darling, if you’re uncomfortable, clap twice.” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale hooked the rope around the rig and tugged once. “Good?” A nod. “Okay. Since this is your first time, I won’t lift you up too high. You’ll be on your tiptoes. Ready?” Crowley whined. Aziraphale pulled, and Crowley felt himself being lifted in the air. When the tips of his toes were brushing the bed, Aziraphale tied the rope off. “How are you doing, sweetness?” Crowley smiled. “God, you look so fucking hot like this.” Aziraphale stroked the knots, smiling at Crowley’s whimper of desire. “Would you like me to suck your cock, Pet?” Crowley keened. Aziraphale stroked the firm flesh. “Already so hard for me, like the good little slut you are. I love you so much.” Aziraphale sank to his knees and took Crowley in his mouth, sucking hard. Crowley bucked his hips, a hissing cry coming from his mouth. It was sweet torture, not being able to bury his hands in his master’s cotton soft hair. Aziraphale held him in place, guiding his movements, and Crowley sobbed in joy. 

He never lasted long when Master sucked him, and he came with a loud, guttural cry, stars bursting before his eyes. His legs were shaking, and he sighed in relief when Master lowered him so he was back on his knees. He felt his hand in his hair, stroking him, and Crowley leaned up into the touch, rumbling happily. “Your turn now, my sweet little slut.” Crowley whimpered in joy and took Master’s cock in his mouth. Master sighed in happiness as Crowley began sucking. “Such a good boy, sweet little pet, dear little slut, so good for Master, so pliant, so obedient, so perfect, I love you...” Aziraphale chanted as he fucked Crowley’s mouth. His darling pet was doing such a marvelous job, and he looked like a piece of precious art. Aziraphale would never get tired of this. Of him. He cried Crowley’s name as he came down his throat. “Oh, I love you.”

Crowley was in paradise. He had never felt so safe, so loved as he did with his master. Aziraphale shifted so he was behind Crowley. He ran his hands down the rope on Crowley’s back. “So exquisite.” He whispered before pushing Crowley down so he was on his elbows. “Do you need me to untie you?” A frantic shake of the red curls. “You want to be tied while I fuck you?”  Eager nodding. Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s ass, then pushed his legs apart. “Sweet little pet, all open and eager for me.”

Aziraphale slicked himself up and pushed in, groaning. Fuck, but his love was tight. Aziraphale fucking loved it. “So good, my love, so perfect.” 

Crowley sobbed. He would never get enough of Aziraphale filling him. He craved the blond’s touch like an addict craves their drug. Aziraphale was his drug, and Crowley reveled in him. 

Aziraphale fucked him sweet and slow, kissing him everywhere as he whispered praise. Crowley shivered, gasping from pleasure. He wanted more, wanted Aziraphale to take what he wanted. He arched against his master, whining. Aziraphale chuckled and bit his shoulder. “You want more, my sweet slut? Do you want your master to fuck you like the slut you are? Do you want me to  **take what’s mine?** ” Crowley’s whine was one of sheer need. “I can’t deny my sweet pet anything.” 

Crowley howled in joy as Aziraphale began pounding into him, angling his cock to hit every nerve. He was shaking with the sheer force of his master’s thrusts. 

Crowley’s vision went black and he was vaguely aware that he was screaming, his body shaking like a live wire. 

The next thing he knew, Aziraphale was removing the blindfold. He had untied Crowley, laying him gently on the bed. “You did so beautifully for me, my sweet pet. So good for Master.” Crowley sighed happily. He was still floating in subspace. “Do you want anything, darling?”

Crowley blinked and shook his head, then held out his arms. Aziraphale  came into them, and Crowley laid his head on Aziraphale’s chest. ‘I love you’ he traced on the blond’s skin. Aziraphale kissed him. “I love you too. Get some rest now. You did so well.”

Crowley purred happily and drifted off to sleep. 


	5. Song and Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has a couple of surprises for Aziraphale, and the gallery owner gets a very unwelcome phone call.

Chapter Five: Song And Dance

Crowley contemplated the canvas in front of him. It was a large one, nearly as tall as he was. He picked up his sketchbook, rifling through the dozens of drawings he had made then rejected as not good enough. This painting was going to be for his master. It had to be perfect, like the angel was. Crowley had drawn Aziraphale in a dozen different shapes, positions, and forms, trying to find the absolute perfect one. Now, at long last, he thought he had it.

The sketch showed Aziraphale as a real life angel, wings extended. A hundred eyes of different colors were embedded in the wings, and the angel carried a sword made of flame, holding it up in a gesture of protection. His master’s hair was in the shape of a halo on his head, and his face showed peace, but also determination. Hidden in the folds of his rainbow colored robe was a black and red snake with golden eyes, looking up at the angel with adoration in the snakey gaze.

Smiling, Crowley opened the first pot of paint and dipped his brush in. He pressed the brush to canvas and began to paint.

Aziraphale unlocked the door to his flat, then tossed his keys on the table, sighing heavily. Today had been a rough day. The morning had started out so well, too. Crowley had made him breakfast in bed, which had led to some very nice early morning sex. After, Aziraphale had told his love that he had some things to do at the gallery, and Crowley was of course free to come along if he wanted. The artist had shyly declined, saying that there was something very special he wanted to get started on in the studio that Aziraphale had set up for him.

The gallery itself had been fine as well. Newt, despite the fact that anything remotely electronic around him seemed to glitch constantly, was a competent worker who knew just as much about the day to day business of running the place as Aziraphale did. Crowley’s paintings were going like hot cakes. He had already painted four new ones to replace the ones Aziraphale had sold.

No, the rough day began when Aziraphale had been in his office, going over the books, and the phone had rung. Automatically, Aziraphale had picked it up. “Fell Gallery.”

“Aziraphale!” His brother Gabriel’s voice came over the line, and Aziraphale briefly contemplated ripping the phone out of the wall. Instead he settled for gripping the desk until his knuckles were white.

“Gabriel.” Aziraphale replied, tone clipped and cold. “I thought none of you were ever going to speak to me again? You made quite the speech about it.” Aziraphale could still remember the vehemence in his so called ‘family’ when they gave him the choice of conforming to their bigoted standards or never speaking to or seeing them again. He had packed his bags and left that day.

“Yes, well, needs must, little brother. I hear that little gallery of yours is doing well.”

Aziraphale resisted the urge to curse a blue streak. “What do you want.”

“Welll...I have a business proposition. Father is going to make me the head of the company.”

“Bully for you.”

“And I was thinking, if I were to show, oh, interest in the arts, it might get me some great publicity. So I thought, hey, who do I know that’s in that world, and would maybe be willing to make a good investment?”

Aziraphale took a deep breath. “What sort of investment?”

“Oh, just a small one. I want to buy the gallery.”

“YOU FUCKING WHAT?!”

Gabriel made a calming noise. “Hey, relax. You’d still be the owner on paper. I’d buy the place up, fill it with the right sort of art.”

“The right…?!” Aziraphale choked out, red seeping before his eyes. “And what,” he ground out, “is the right sort of art?”

“Oh you know. Nothing too..outre, nothing to cause too much of a scandal.”

Aziraphale snarled. “Fucking Norman Rockwell?!”

“Well, along that vein, yes. Family values, Aziraphale. They’re important. So what do you say?”

Aziraphale was going to have a coronary, he was so furious. He took several deep breaths. “Gabriel. When I purchased the building that was to become this gallery, it was on the verge of being condemned. It took me nearly eight months to get it up to code, another six to get it in decent enough shape to present any sort of art. After that, it took me nearly a year and half to make enough of a name for myself that artists were willing to exhibit their work. I make it a point of pride to showcase queer artists whenever I can. I have ten years of reputation for being the gallery that aspiring artists hope to exhibit at. If you think I am going to throw away my livelihood for a bunch of bigots that wouldn’t know real art if it buggered them up the ass with a giant paintbrush, then you are sorely mistaken. Do me a favor and never fucking call me again.” He took great satisfaction in slamming the phone down, then buried his face in his hands. Talking to any of his family always made the memories come back.

“Fuck.” He wasn’t going to get any work done now. Sighing, he grabbed his coat and headed out the door.

Now, back home, he headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking a long drink of apple cider before realizing that it was very quiet, and that Crowley wasn’t in his usual spot on the sofa. Aziraphale checked the bedroom, thinking maybe his pet was napping, but that was empty as well. Aziraphale frowned. Crowley knew to text him if he was leaving the flat, simply so Aziraphale would know where he was. The blond thought, then grinned as he realized where Crowley most likely was. The studio.

Aziraphale walked down the hall. He could hear music coming from behind the closed studio door. Crowley must be painting. He always listened to music while he painted, claiming it helped with the creative process. He pushed open the door and stopped in the threshold, eyes wide.

Crowley was in front of a massive canvas. Aziraphale couldn’t see what he was painting, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Crowley was naked except for a pair of dark blue panties. His hair was done up in a braid, and Aziraphale could see the tattoos on his back. The panties clung to him, showing off his delectable ass to marvelous effect. “Quite the masterpiece.”

Crowley squawked and threw an old sheet over the canvas, at the same time turning and spreading his arms wide. ‘Nope, can’t look!’

Aziraphale chuckled and came over, slipping his arms around Crowley’s waist. “Sweet pet, how could I see anything but you? I must say, this is rather a nice thing to come home to. Did you dress like this for me?” Crowley nodded. “I’m so glad.” He rubbed Crowley’s cock through the fabric, and Crowley hissed, pressing himself against his master. “I had the most horrid morning, love. Would you like to make me feel better?” Crowley nodded again. “Such a sweet pet you are. On your knees, my love.”

Crowley knelt, looking up at Aziraphale with such pure devotion that he nearly cried. “Such a wonderful one you are, my darling.” He said, petting Crowley’s hair. Crowley made his happy rumble sound, and Aziraphale felt his heart soar. He unbuckled his pants, pulling out his cock. “Worship me, my sweet pet. Show Master how devoted you are.”

Crowley whimpered and took him into his mouth, letting his tongue wrap around his master’s thickness. He loved the taste of his master, could(and had) spend hours on his knees in front of him, worshiping his perfect cock. Crowley stroked Master’s balls, smiling at the gasp of pleasure. This was what he lived for. This was everything to him. He was Aziraphale’s, body, soul, mind, and heart. His previous relationships were nothing compared to this.

Above him, Aziraphale gasped and groaned Crowley’s name as his perfect pet sucked him into sweet oblivion. He braced himself on Crowley’s shoulders and began thrusting into his mouth, going faster and harder at Crowley’s whimper of joy. His dear pet loved having his throat fucked, and Aziraphale was more than happy to indulge him. He looked down and saw that Crowley’s cock was straining at the fabric of his panties, but like the good pet he was, he hadn’t touched himself without Master’s permission. Aziraphale decided to give him a special treat for being such a good boy. His hips jerked as he came down Crowley’s throat with a loud cry.

Crowley sat back on his haunches, eyes shining with love. Aziraphale stroked his cheek. “You did so well, my sweet. Your poor cock must be aching with the need to come.” Crowley whimpered. Aziraphale helped him to his feet. “Come with Master, my sweet.” Crowley followed him out of the studio and into the bedroom. “I wonder, sweet pet, how long you can hold off.” Crowley whined. “You have a choice, my sweet slave. I can take you in my lap and get you off in a few quick strokes, or I can tie you to the bed and put you through exquisitely sweet torments before fucking you into next week.”

Crowley instantly held up two fingers. He needed to come, was aching with it, but more than that was the need for Master to use him as he saw fit. Crowley loved every second of it. ‘Master, are you just going to tie me?’

“Did you want Shibari, love?”

Crowley nodded eagerly. Aziraphale tilted his head. “Not right now, love. Tonight, I’ll tie you up in the most exquisite knots. Right now though, I want you spread eagled. Go pick out the ropes you want. You may even choose a blindfold, if you wish.”

Crowley shook his head. ‘Want to watch you, Master.’ Aziraphale nodded assent, and Crowley felt a rush of happiness. He nearly skipped over to the wardrobe that held all of their toys. He selected the ropes he wanted, then went back over to Aziraphale, holding them out.

“Excellent choices, love. Take your panties off and get on the bed, please.”

Crowley obeyed, and Aziraphale came over, tying his hands to the headboard. “Good, love?” Crowley tugged on the ropes and gave him a thumbs up. Aziraphale kissed him, then tied Crowley’s feet so his legs were spread. The artist’s cock was hard and dripping, and Aziraphale pressed a chaste kiss to the tip. Crowley whimpered. “Patience, my sweet pet. Let Master take care of you.”

Aziraphale undressed, placing his clothing in a neat pile, and climbed into bed, hovering over Crowley. “So fucking gorgeous, my sweet artist slut. So open and ready for Master, aren’t you?” Crowley keened, and Aziraphale kissed him filthily, shoving his tongue in Crowley’s mouth and sucking hard on his lower lip. “Master’s going to take such good care of his darling pet.” Aziraphale sank his teeth into Crowley’s neck, and the artist howled. Aziraphale sucked at the spot he had bitten.

“You make such wonderful sounds, my darling. Such perfect noises.” Aziraphale growled as he scraped Crowley’s nipple with his teeth. Crowley hissed, his entire body shaking. Aziraphale sucked on the nipple for a bit, relishing in the panting sounds coming from his lover. He kissed Crowley’s sternum, then proceeded down his perfect body, leaving the marks of his teeth everywhere.

Crowley was shaking, sobbing, and panting. He had never needed to come so badly, but Aziraphale hadn’t yet given him permission. He was on fire with it, with the need to come. He whined high in his throat, and Master looked up from between Crowley’s legs with a knowing smirk. “My sweet pet, your torment will be over soon, I promise. Just be patient a bit longer, my darling. Can you do that for me?” Crowley nodded. He would do anything for Master. Aziraphale beamed and sucked a bruise in his inner thigh. “Good little pet.” He pressed a kiss to Crowley’s balls, then sat up on his knees and lifted Crowley’s legs so his ass was exposed. Aziraphale traced his tight hole with one finger, and Crowley gasped. “I’m going to go in slow, my pet, and I am going to fuck you as I go.” Crowley whined, pushing his hips up.

Aziraphale pushed into him slowly, dragging his cock against the sensitive nerve endings. Crowley cried out, tears in his eyes. Aziraphale kissed them away. “You’re doing so well, so wonderfully, I’ve got you.” He cried out as he bottomed out inside his perfect pet. Crowley’s face was the picture of ecstasy. Aziraphale kissed him, then began pounding into his hole, pressing Crowley into the mattress with each thrust. “So perfect, so wanton, my sweet slut, my perfect pet, so good for me, so good for Master, fucking love you so much, you are my world, I love you, I love you, I love you, come for me, let go for Master, come undone for me….”

And Crowley did, with a howl that nearly shook the ceiling. Aziraphale fucked him through his orgasm, his own scream pouring from his mouth as he came.

Crowley’s legs fell onto the bed. He was so very happy. He turned his head and watched as Master went into the bathroom. Crowley heard the water running, and sighed. Running water meant a bath, which meant pressing close to Master in the warm, oil scented water. Master came back into the bedroom and untied Crowley. “Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?”

Crowley held out his arms. Master was very strong, and Crowley loved being carried by him. Aziraphale laughed and scooped him up. Crowley wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “I spoil you, my pet.” Crowley purred and nuzzled him. “Good thing you’re worth it.”

Aziraphale climbed into the tub(scented with rose oil this time) and Crowley settled against him with a soft sigh. Aziraphale tugged gently on his braid. “Love you so much.” Crowley hummed in happy agreement, then looked up at his angel.

‘You were upset when you came home.’

“Yes, I told you.”

Crowley shook his head. ‘I knew before you told me.’

Aziraphale blinked in shock. “You did?” Crowley nodded. “How?”

‘The way you closed the front door. When you have a good day, the door closes quiet, and the way I know you’re home is because I hear the fridge open and your footsteps. The door closed loud today, and your footsteps to the kitchen were loud and angry sounding.’

Aziraphale smiled. “You are full of surprises, my darling.”

‘Surprise is why I covered the painting I was working on. Don’t want you to see it.’ Crowley signed, blushing. ‘Why were you mad?’

Aziraphale huffed and recounted the phone call. “I’m not normally a violent man, but I wanted to reach through the phone lines and strangle him. How dare he try to take my gallery!”

‘Can he?’ Crowley asked, looking alarmed. Aziraphale smiled grimly.

“He cannot. I own the building outright, and am very well established in the art world. I have lots of friends that would..object **very strongly** to any attempts to oust me. Gabriel doesn’t have the appreciation for art that I do. Like the rest of my family, he sees it as something to invest in.” 

‘No appreciation for talent?’

“None.”

Crowley listened to Aziraphale’s heartbeat for a few moments. ‘You know how to find talent. You found me.’ 

“That I did. But you’re different from all the others.”

‘I am?’

Aziraphale laughed. “Well of course you are. I’ve never been in love with any of the others. I’ve become great friends with many of them, and am an honorary godfather to a few of their children, but none of them have captured my heart as completely as you have. I wanted you from the second I saw you, fell in love with you so hard and fast it made me dizzy, and am drowning daily in your perfect devotion to me. I love you so damn much, Anthony.”

Crowley gasped at the use of his first name. ‘Wanted you too. Minute I saw you, in fact. And then when you told me what you wanted to do to me, it lit a fire that hasn’t gone out yet. I love you, Master, and will do anything for you.’ 

Aziraphale pulled him up into a kiss that lasted until the water in the tub grew cold. “Darling, I want to take you out.” 

Crowley smiled. ‘Where?’ 

“The Ritz. I want tonight to be special, and then when we come back, I’ll rig you up.”

Crowley wiggled in glee and went over to the closet. ‘What do you want me to wear, Master?’ 

Aziraphale pondered. “The dark blue shirt with the black trousers. You look so fetching in that outfit. And wear the red panties.”

‘Jewelry?’ 

“The sun pendant I bought you last week. It sets off your eyes wonderfully.”

Crowley got dressed, then took a breath. ‘Master? May I...ask a favor?’ Aziraphale nodded. ‘Um...would you...mind if the next time we went...um, clothes shopping, if I..bought some dresses?’ Aziraphale blinked, and Crowley twisted his hands before resuming. ‘Um..probly should have told earlier, but wasn’t sure how you’d react, and um...I’m genderfluid. S’why I have...um...necklaces an’ stuff...wear makeup and do m’nails...’ 

Aziraphale came over and cupped Crowley’s face in his hands. “My darling, I will buy you the most gorgeous dresses money can buy.” Crowley sighed in relief. “You know you don’t need to keep any secrets from me, my pet. You may present however you please. When you present female, do you go by a different name?”

‘Tonya.’ 

“Tonya. Darling, I’ve changed my mind. We’re going shopping first, then to dinner.” 

Aziraphale took Crowley to a very fancy dress shop. The sales lady didn’t even blink when he asked to see their finest merchandise. Crowley bought a dark red evening gown, a cocktail dress, an A line dress, and a slinky black dress that made Aziraphale’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. She also bought a few scarves and a black dress jacket.  She opted for the black dress for dinner, along with a red scarf and a pair of crescent moon earrings. 

Aziraphale nearly fainted when she came out of their room. “You um...look amazing, my love.” Crowley blushed. She had her hair up in a French braid, and had put on lipstick and a bit of eyeliner. “Ready?” Crowley nodded, and they headed out. 

Aziraphale couldn’t take his eyes off Crowley all evening. God, if he thought his love was a beautiful man, it was nothing compared to how beautiful she was as a woman. She was even more tempting, somehow. They had been getting quite a few looks from the other patrons, but Aziraphale ignored them all in favor of gazing in rapture at the Madonna in front of him. He ate by rote, lifting his fork to his lips without looking. “You should present female more often, love. It very much suits you.”

‘Thank you.’ 

Much later, in the darkness of their room, Aziraphale kept his promise, tying Crowley and sending her to the heights of pleasure over and over again. 

Crowley curled up against her Master. How could she have ever doubted him? Aziraphale would let her be whoever she wanted, and she loved him completely. 


	6. Touch and Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys surprise each other and have dinner at the Ritz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a head's up, the next chapter is going to be a day late because I'm housesitting for my brother while he and my SIL go to Tampa.

Chapter Six: Touch and Taste

Crowley stepped back and examined the tableau, smiling. Aziraphale was going to love this, he knew. The artist had gone shopping earlier(telling Aziraphale that he needed more art supplies in a small white lie) and now everything was ready. He arranged the jars carefully next to the bed before heading out to the living room to wait for Aziraphale to come home.

He didn’t have long to wait. Aziraphale came into the flat, looking exhausted. Crowley knew he had had a rough day at the gallery. One of his other exhibitors(Aziraphale had seven counting Crowley) was a diva who called once a week to demand that Aziraphale put a higher price on his work, which was abstract sculpture. Aziraphale would tell him every time that the price he set was fair for the quality of the work(which was really rather good) but the artist would rave about how he was being cheated before hanging up, leaving Aziraphale with a massive headache.

Aziraphale trudged over to the sofa, collapsing onto it and pulling Crowley into his arms. “My love, I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you. I have had a day and a half.” He kissed Crowley’s cheek. “Did you have a good day, my love?”

Crowley nodded. ‘Got some more of my surprise painting done, then I went to the park and people watched for a bit. Had lunch at that sidewalk cafe, then went shopping. But I may have told you a little white lie about what I bought.’

Aziraphale raised a brow. “Oh?” Crowley blushed. “What did you buy?” The artist stood, holding out his hand. Aziraphale took it, and Crowley led him down the hall, stopping at their bedroom door.

‘Close your eyes.’ Aziraphale shut his eyes, and Crowley opened the door and pulled him into the bedroom. Aziraphale sniffed. He could smell vanilla and lavender. Crowley tapped his eyelids and he opened them, gasping.

The room was filled with candles. They gave off a soft, sensual glow, and Aziraphale realized that was where the vanilla and lavender scent was coming from. “Crowley, it’s lovely.”

‘Not all.’ Crowley took both his hands and pulled him towards the bed. Aziraphale gasped again. A row of jars sat on the nightstand, and the sheets were pulled back. “Crowley, darling, what is all this?”

‘Wanna give you a massage.’ Crowley signed, a deep blush on his face. ‘That’s what I bought. Massage oil.’

Aziraphale blinked at him, tears in his eyes. “How did I get so very lucky?” He whispered before pulling Crowley into a passionate kiss. “My darling, I can think of nothing I would like more.”

Crowley lit up and took his shirt off, then motioned for Aziraphale to do the same and get on the bed. Aziraphale stripped and lay on his stomach, hands pillowed under his head. “Have you ever done this before, Pet?”

‘No, but I read up on it. Relax.’ Crowley assured him before climbing behind Aziraphale and grabbing the first jar of oil. He unscrewed the cap and poured a generous amount on his hands, then placed them on Aziraphale’s shoulders and pressed down, rubbing the oil into the skin. Aziraphale gasped out loud.

“Oh my...oh Pet, you are a natural at this...” Aziraphale slurred. He knew his pet’s fingers could work magic on him in bed, but this was a whole new level. One touch and Aziraphale was ready to melt into the sheets.

Crowley pressed his thumbs in between Aziraphale shoulder blades, and his master shivered. Crowley applied more oil, rubbing it into Aziraphale’s perfect skin, then bent down and kissed where he had massaged. Master moaned, and Crowley sucked a kiss into his neck.

“Crwly...” Master’s voice was slurred with desire. “S fcking good...don’t stop...”

Crowley had no intention of stopping. He dug his fingers into Aziraphale’s spine, then down to his gorgeous ass and thighs. He cupped Master’s ass in his hands, rubbing, and Aziraphale whined. Crowley slid his hands up again, rubbing circles into Aziraphale’s back and shoulders.

Aziraphale couldn’t move. Crowley’s fingers on him were beyond perfect. He had never in his life felt more relaxed or horny. He was vaguely aware that Crowley was tapping his shoulder, and he lifted his head. “Mmm?” Crowley made a ‘turn over’ gesture, and Aziraphale complied, gulping. At some point in the massage Crowley had shed the rest of his clothes. His cock was wonderfully full, and Aziraphale could see a sheen of sweat on his perfect chest.

Crowley straddled him and applied more oil before rubbing Aziraphale’s chest. The blond bit back a howl of pleasure. “Oh my sweet...” Crowley worked his way down Aziraphale’s chest to his stomach, then took his cock in one oil slicked hand and stroked. Aziraphale nearly bucked off the bed. “Oh god...” His cock throbbed with the need to be inside his pet. “Crowley!”

‘Can I ride you, Master?’ Crowley asked, and Aziraphale nodded, eyes nearly black with desire. Crowley moaned and sank down onto Aziraphale’s cock. The blond cried out in ecstasy. Crowley lifted himself up then slammed back down, taking his master in as deep as he could.

“Oh, Crowley you perfect one, fuck yourself on Master’s cock, that’s it baby, fuck yourself on me, take your pleasure from Master, oh I fucking love you...” Aziraphale moaned as Crowley rode him hard, his hips pistoning. Aziraphale fucked up into him, hands digging into Crowley’s hips. “Touch yourself for Master, baby...” Crowley moaned and began stroking his cock in time with Aziraphale’s thrusts. “Yes, that’s it, my perfect little slut, my good pet, look at me...” Crowley locked eyes with Aziraphale, the love in them clearly visible. “I love you so much...so...fucking...” Aziraphale came hard, an incoherent cry pouring from his mouth. Crowley came moments later, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

‘Did you like that?’

Aziraphale smirked up at him. “The sex or the massage?” Crowley held up a finger. “My dear sweet pet, it was perfect. We are doing it more often. Only next time, it’s your turn.”

Crowley was more than happy to agree.

“Now, since we are both a mess of oil and come, I propose we take a nice bath, and then I am going to take you out for a very special dinner as a reward for the very lovely surprise you had for me.” Aziraphale said, nudging Crowley gently. He slid off Aziraphale, who went into the bathroom to get the tub going while Crowley extinguished the candles. Aziraphale finished filling the tub, adding some bubble bath for an extra perk. “Tub’s ready, Pet.” Crowley blew out the last candle and followed Aziraphale into the bathroom. They got settled in the tub, and Aziraphale laughed when Crowley scooped up some bubbles and blew them in the air, his face lit up in childish glee. “That was a lovely surprise, darling. How long had you been planning it?”

‘A week. Wanted to do the research, make sure I got everything right.’

“You more than got it right, love. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were a masseuse in another life.” Crowley blushed and shook his head. Aziraphale stroked his hair. “Darling, those oils you used? Would they work in hair?” Crowley nodded. “Oh good, because I would love to anoint you. And...I may have a surprise of my own.” Crowley tilted his head, eyes wide. “Oh no. After we get out.” Crowley pouted, and Aziraphale kissed him. “Patience, pet.”

After they got out, Aziraphale had Crowley sit on the floor in front of the bed, facing the door. Aziraphale had a brush in one hand and the jar of lavender oil in the other. He placed the brush on the bed, then lifted Crowley’s hair and placed it on his lap before retrieving the brush and running it through the fiery tresses. “You have such beautiful hair, my love. Is this the longest it’s ever been?”

‘Yeah. Might cut it when summer gets here.’

“Don’t you dare. Keep it braided.”

‘Can I cut it shorter, but long enough to still have a braid?’

Aziraphale thought. “Yes, that would be fine.” He opened the jar of oil and poured a dollop onto his hand, then began rubbing it into Crowley’s hair. “Are you ready for my surprise, love?” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale carded his fingers in his hair, separating the strands, then began to weave them together. “Now I can’t promise that this will be as elaborate as some of the braids I’ve seen you do, but I have been practicing for the past week and a half, so it should at least be passable.” He said as he worked. Crowley sighed, eyes closed in bliss. Aziraphale’s fingers in his hair was one of the best feelings in the world. “Okay, I’m done.”

Crowley stood and went over to the mirror. Aziraphale had given him a simple braid. “Is it...okay?” Crowley came over and kissed him hard. Aziraphale kissed back. ‘I take it that’s a yes?” Crowley nodded, a huge smile on his face.

‘Who did you practice on?’

Aziraphale blushed. “Er, I may have bought a bunch of string and tied it to my desk at work. It took me forever to be able to create a braid that didn’t look like it was done by a blind person. I also found a bunch of tutorials online.”

Crowley’s eyes went soft and he caressed Aziraphale’s cheek. ‘I love you.’

“I love you. Now, get dressed. The red panties, and..do you want to wear a dress or a suit, darling?”

‘Can I wear the green blouse you got for me and the black trousers? I feel like being both tonight.’ Crowley signed, gazing hopefully at their master. Aziraphale kissed them.

‘Of course, my pet. Flats or heels?”

‘Flats.’ Crowley said before standing and heading to the closet, pulling out their outfit. They went over to the dresser and got out the panties. They pulled them on, then got dressed, buttoning up the green woman’s blouse that Aziraphale had bought for them the week before. They rummaged through their jewelry box and selected a pair of star shaped earrings, slipping them on. Crowley spread out their hands and examined their nails, painted with suns and moons.

Aziraphale dressed in a cream and gold outfit. “Crowley, love, I was wondering if...could you perhaps paint my nails?”

Crowley nodded several times. ‘What color?’ They had a variety of polish in all colors in a box in the bathroom, and they went and got it, opening it so Aziraphale could pick the shade he wanted.

“Hmm...you pick.”

Crowley thought for several moments, then beamed and pulled a bottle out. The polish was a light blue with bits of glitter. They motioned for Aziraphale to sit on the bed before dragging the chair over. ‘Spread out your fingers.’ Aziraphale did, and Crowley opened the bottle and began painting Aziraphale’s nails. ‘Right hand.’ Aziraphale extended his right hand, and Crowley dipped the nail brush in the bottle and renewed their painting. ‘All done.’

Aziraphale examined his nails. “Oh, they’re lovely! Thank you so much!” Crowley blushed.

‘Should dry pretty quick. You look good with painted nails, Master.’

“Why thank you, pet. Come along now, dinner’s waiting.”

Aziraphale gave Crowley directions to where they were going without telling him the name of their destination. “You’ll find out when we get there, Pet.” Crowley had pouted a bit, but followed the impeccable directions. Their jaw dropped when they arrived.

‘The Ritz?!’ Aziraphale beamed. ‘How?’

“Made the reservations last week. Now come along, Pet.” Crowley scrambled out of the car.

Aziraphale looped his arm in theirs and escorted them inside. Crowley’s eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. Aziraphale led them over to the host station. The hostess smiled at them. “Welcome to the Ritz. Did you have a reservation?”

“Yes, under Fell. Dinner for two in a private room.”

The hostess pulled up her computer and tapped a few keys. “I have you right here, Mr. Fell. If you will please follow me.” She led them through the restaurant to a pair of elaborately carved wooden doors, pushing them open. They opened into an intimate dining space, with soft, sensual lighting. “Your sommelier will be by shortly, along with your server. I do hope you enjoy yourselves.”

“We will, my dear.” Aziraphale led Crowley over to the table, motioning for them to sit. He sat and opened the menu, perusing it. “So, what do you think?”

‘It’s...amazing, Master.’

Aziraphale reached over and took their hand in his. “You’re worth it, my love.” Crowley batted their lashes.

‘Ana calls you my Sugar Daddy Dom.’

Aziraphale laughed. “Well, I suppose I am. I love spending money on you, love. Lord knows I have more than enough that I can afford to indulge my pet. And I don’t hear you complaining.”

Crowley sighed. ‘Grew up poor, so...it’s nice to be taken care of. Besides, I have my ways of showing my gratitude.’

“That you do.” Aziraphale growled. Crowley gulped, shivering in desire. Aziraphale stroked their cheek with a finger. “You show it so well, my perfect pet.” He kissed them. “My sweet little slut.” Crowley purred.

There was a knock on the door. “Yes?” Aziraphale called, a bit irritated. A man came in.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Paul, your sommelier. Would you care to start with something to drink?”

Aziraphale smiled. “A bottle of your best red, I think. Also, if you would find our server, we are ready to order.” Paul bowed and left the room, returning moments later with a bottle that Crowley was sure cost more than their car along with a young woman who introduced herself as Dora and asked if they were ready to order. Aziraphale got the baked trout with vegetables and Crowley ordered filet mignon with potatoes. Paul opened the wine, pouring a small amount into a glass and handing it to Aziraphale, who took a sip and nodded. “Yes, this will do nicely.” Paul poured them each a glass and set the bottle in the ice bucket before departing.

‘Do you come here a lot?’ Crowley asked, taking a sip of the very good wine. Aziraphale sipped at his own glass before answering.

“I used to. With my family, before...things went pear shaped.” Crowley squeezed his hand. “I’ve never told you about them, have I? Or why we no longer speak?” Crowley shook their head.

‘It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.’

Aziraphale sighed deeply. “No, I do. So. My family. Extremely, obscenely wealthy thanks to software development along with some very canny investments made by my grandfather. I’m the youngest of three siblings, all boys. Gabriel, the oldest brother, is currently the de facto head of the company. Sandalphon, or Sandy, is the CFO. We grew up in a frankly massive house just outside London, and were indulged. I was always the odd one out, though. I was very bookish growing up, and my brothers are decidedly not. I was rather bullied as a youngster. But Mother and Father still cared for me, in their own remote sort of way. But then I made the worst mistake of my life. I came out. See, I’d known from a very early age, I think about ten, that I had no interest in girls beyond being friends. I was attracted to boys. But, my parents being extremely conservative in their...beliefs, I had to keep it hidden. But you know how it is with a secret that massive. It eats you up inside.”

‘What happened when you told them?’

Aziraphale snorted. “They went crazy. Screamed at me for hours about how it was a phase, that no son of theirs was going to be a pervert, and that I was to stop this foolishness. I screamed back, told them I wasn’t a pervert, deviant, or anything like that, and I was tired of hiding who I was. Father and I nearly came to blows. The culmination of the argument was them telling me that I had two choices. I could either recant everything I had said and be a good, dutiful son, or I could leave and never speak to them again. I chose the latter option. Father agreed to sell me my share in the company, and I used some of it to buy the building that became my gallery.”

‘What about the um..dom thing?’

Aziraphale grinned. “Oh, that. Tracy told me about that. She’s a retired Dominatrix.” Crowley’s jaw dropped. “Oh yes. Didn’t you know that?” Crowley boggled. “I went to one of her sessions once, out of curiosity. It was...very exciting, and after we had tea and I grilled her for information.”

Their food arrived, and they dug in. “Delicious.”

‘How...um...how many submissives have you had?’ Crowley asked, feeling a surge of jealousy.

“Are you jealous?” Aziraphale asked, delighted. Crowley scowled. “Darling, you have no need to be. I am very...selective. But if you must know, I’ve had four besides you, and all of them pale in comparison. None of them hold me in as much thrall as you do, my sweet pet.”

Crowley huffed and wrapped themselves around the blond. ‘MINE.’

“Yes, my love. And you are mine.” Crowley hugged him, then got up and went over to the door. They locked it, then returned to the table and knelt in front of their master. “What’s on my pet’s mind?” Crowley placed their hand on Aziraphale’s crotch. “You want to suck me, pet?” An eager nod. “But I’m still eating.” Crowley’s face fell and they gazed pleadingly at Aziraphale. “I tell you what, Pet. If you can make me come by the time I finish, you may suck me. Can you do that?” Crowley nodded rapidly. “Then you had better get started.”

Sighing in bliss, Crowley undid their master’s trousers, pulling out his cock and licking the half hard shaft. Aziraphale moaned around his mouthful of fish. “Good little pet.” Crowley hummed happily and took their master in their mouth, sucking hard. Aziraphale hissed but continued to eat, cutting the fish into small pieces. “Keep going, sweet little slut.” Crowley massaged Aziraphale’s balls, and the blond nearly bit his fork in half. He set the utensil on the table and buried his left hand in Crowley’s hair before picking the fork up with his right and digging into the broccoli. Aziraphale’s hips jerked as he slowly fucked into Crowley’s mouth, his fingers scratching the redhead’s scalp. “Good pet, sweet little one, suck harder, you make Master feel so wonderful, my darling pet, my Crowley, my Anthony, fuck...” Aziraphale moaned as he came. Crowley licked him clean before tucking him back into his trousers and sitting back in the booth. Aziraphale kissed them soundly. “I love you so much. But we’ve got a problem. I’m afraid your filet has gone cold.”

‘Get it to go.’ Crowley said, a wide grin on their face. Aziraphale burst out laughing.

They had Crepes Suzette for dessert, and Aziraphale fed Crowley, kissing them deeply between each bite.

Later that night, Aziraphale made good on his promise to massage Crowley, which led to them making love for hours. “You’re a magician, you know.”

Crowley lifted their head from Aziraphale’s chest and gave him a look of confusion. Aziraphale kissed them. “You made my bad mood vanish. You always make me feel better. I love you.”

‘I love you too. I’ll never get tired of telling you.’

“Neither will I.”


	7. Sketches and Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is full of surprises...

Chapter Seven: Sketches and Surprises

The weather, which had been cold, wet, and rainy for the past two weeks, finally broke, bathing Soho in sunlight and coolness. Londoners flocked to the parks, taking full advantage of the sunshine. Crowley and Aziraphale were no different.

The gallery owner had packed an entire wicker basket that he “had lying around” with delicacies, including homemade scones and plum jam, finger sandwiches, an entire quiche, raspberry chocolate tarts(not homemade, but from a very excellent bakery within walking distance of Aziraphale’s flat) two bottles of excellent red wine, crystal decanters, Aziraphale’s second best china, and a gigantic tartan blanket.

They found a somewhat empty spot in St. James and spread the blanket out, tamping it to the ground with some rocks from Crowley’s indoor garden. Aziraphale placed the basket in the middle of the blanket and sat cross-legged. Crowley lounged with his head in Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale stroked his hair. “”This was a lovely idea, Pet. What would you like first?”

‘Tart.’

Aziraphale opened the basket and pulled out the tarts. He nibbled one, eyes closed. “Delicious.” Crowley pouted up at him. “Oh, would you like a taste, Pet?” Crowley batted his eyelashes and gave Aziraphale a pleading look. “Open up, sweet one.” Crowley opened his mouth and Aziraphale gently fed him the tart, relishing the way his love’s eyes lit up at the taste. Crowley swallowed, then made a ‘Gimme more’ gesture. Laughing, Aziraphale obliged, feeding him pieces of the tart until it was gone.

Crowley shifted so he was sitting up, his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. ‘Drink?’ Aziraphale pulled out the wine and decanters with a flourish and a “Ta da!” Crowley grinned and clapped. Aziraphale bowed and uncorked the wine, pouring them each a glass. “The quiche next, I think.” He said, pulling it out of the basket and taking it out of the foil he had kept it in to stay warm. He pulled out plates, knives, and forks, cutting them each a slice. “Now, I baked this myself, and I’ve never done a quiche before. You must tell me how it is.”

Crowley took a bite. It was a broccoli and cheese quiche. He chewed, swallowed, then looked up at Aziraphale and grinned, gave him a thumbs up with one hand and rubbed his stomach with another. Aziraphale grinned in relief. “Thank you, darling.” Crowley grinned and resumed eating.

Once the food had been decimated and most of the wine drunk, Crowley lay on the blanket with his head once again in Aziraphale’s lap. He took the blond’s hands and placed them on his head, whining quietly. Aziraphale chuckled and began petting him. “Such a beautiful day. Too bad you didn’t bring one of your sketchbooks along.” Crowley giggled. “What’s so funny, my pet?”

‘Look in the bottom of the basket.’

Aziraphale moved aside some of his china. Sitting at the bottom of the basket was a large black sketchbook and a packet of colored pencils. “You clever serpent.” He said, gazing lovingly at Crowley and handing him the art supplies. Crowley blushed and opened up the book and pencils. He began sketching Aziraphale from his position in his lap. ‘Look down.’ Aziraphale obliged, and Crowley sketched his eyes, making sure they were the right shade of blue. ‘There.’ He presented the sketch to Aziraphale.

“It’s beautiful. Pet? Would you mind doing a drawing of me?” Crowley nodded rapidly. “How shall I pose, darling?” Crowley thought.

‘Take your jacket off and lie down on the blanket on your side.’

Aziraphale posed, smiling at his love. “Like this?” Crowley nodded, then sat cross-legged with his book in hand and his pencils next to him. He selected a black pencil for the outline and began drawing, trying to focus on the paper and not his master’s gorgeous forearms. Aziraphale was deceptively strong.

Aziraphale watched Crowley draw, his brow furrowed in concentration and his tongue sticking out. He always got a thrill out of watching his love create things. Crowley’s imagination seemed boundless. Aziraphale had never sold so many paintings. Crowley was very lucrative for him, and Aziraphale was thrilled for him. Indeed, he had taken great pride in telling the artist that one of his paintings(it depicted the planet Saturn) had sold for five times as much as he had offered for it, which led to another dinner in a private room at the Ritz, which then led to an entire weekend spent in the penthouse suite, complete with very expensive champagne and chocolate strawberries. Crowley had almost purred when he wrapped himself in the cotton robes provided by the hotel.

Crowley whistled, and Aziraphale blinked, coming out of his thoughts. “Done already, darling?” Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale sat up. “Come show me?” Crowley scooted over and pressed his back to Aziraphale’s front. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the red head and gazed at the drawing. “Oh. Pet, it’s perfect. You are perfect. Now, I think you need to redraw me later tonight, in that same position, but with far fewer clothes.” Crowley nodded agreement. Aziraphale tilted his head up and dropped a chaste kiss to his lips. “You taste of wine, pet.”

‘You too. Kiss again?’

Aziraphale couldn’t deny his love anything. He stroked Crowley’s face with one hand and kissed him again. Crowley sighed happily and kissed back, relishing in his master’s taste.

Something small and solid collided with them. Aziraphale let go of Crowley with a grunt, blinking in shock at the small child that was trying to bury herself under their blanket. “I say, young lady...”

She didn’t seem to hear him, Aziraphale cleared his throat, loudly, and she jerked upright, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Young lady, this is a private...” he blinked as she looked down the path and hid behind Crowley. “What on earth?”

A group of children came running up to them. One of them, a burly looking boy, spoke. “Hey, you guys seen a dummy around here?” Crowley bristled, eyes darkening in rage. Aziraphale looked over at him and the girl cowering behind him.

“No, we have not. I suggest you move on.”

The boy snorted. “Yeah, okay. We’ll find her. Stupid dummy needs to learn.” The gang ran off. Aziraphale looked over at the girl. “You can stop hiding now.” The girl came out, a shy look on her face. “Did you know those other children?” An angry nod. “They called you a dummy. Are you mute?” An embarrassed blush. Aziraphale pointed over at Crowley. “So is he.’

The girl’s eyes went wide and she spun to face Crowley. ‘You are?!’

Crowley laughed at her surprise. ‘Yes. What’s your name?’

‘Sandra, but Mum calls me Sandy.’

‘I’m Tony. This is my boyfriend, Aziraphale.’ Crowley pointed to Aziraphale. ‘Her name is Sandy.’

Aziraphale shook her hand. “A pleasure, Miss Sandy. How did you come to run into us?”

Sandy pouted, then looked at Crowley. ‘Does Az...does he know sign?’ Crowley nodded.

‘The big bully that called me a dummy is my cousin James. I hate him. He’s always bullying me, but he gets away with it because he’s bigger and he’s got a real bad temper. Aunt Fiona-that’s his mum-spoils him and won’t let anyone say anything bad about him. She doesn’t like me because I can’t talk. Calls it un...not good.’

Crowley scowled. ‘You know she’s wrong, don’t you?’ Sandy nodded. ‘I wish I could talk sometimes. I’d call James an...’

“Sandra! There you are!” A frazzled woman came running up. “I was worried sick. Oh, sirs, I do hope she wasn’t pestering you.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Not at all.”

Sandy ran over to the woman, signing rapidly. The woman blinked, then looked over at Crowley. “He is?” Sandy nodded. “Excuse me, are you..Sandy called you Tony?” Crowley nodded. “I’m Felicity, Sandy’s mother. It’s...Sandy’s never met someone like her, let alone a grown up. Thank you for talking with her.”

Crowley blushed. ‘You’re welcome.’ Sandy and her mother waved goodbye. Crowley wiped away a tear.

“Darling, are you alright?”

‘Yeah. I know what she’s going through. When you can’t speak, you can’t always stand up for yourself, and bullies take advantage of that. I hope she’ll be okay, and I hope her cousin...falls into a duck pond and ruins his trousers.’ Aziraphale cackled, then looked up at the sky. “Day’s going. Shall we head back?” Crowley nodded. They repacked the basket and strolled back to the Bentley, arm in arm.

When they arrived home, Aziraphale unpacked the basket and put the dishes in the sink to wash. Crowley went into the bedroom and returned holding a blindfold. He handed it to Aziraphale. ‘Put this on.’

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Usually you’re the one being blindfolded, pet.”

‘I know, but this is a special occasion. Put it on.’ Aziraphale donned it, tying it in the back. Crowley took his hands and led him down the hall.

“Pet, this isn’t the way to the bedroom.” Aziraphale remarked, but allowed Crowley to lead him. He heard a door open. Crowley guided him to a spot in whatever room they were in, then flicked on a switch. Aziraphale heard the sound of a sheet being pulled off something. Crowley’s footsteps came behind him, and the blindfold was removed with a flourish. Aziraphale blinked against the bright light. His eyes focused, and his hand flew to his mouth as he began sobbing in joy. “Oh, Crowley...”

There in front of him was The Painting. The one he had asked Crowley to do. It depicted him as a Guardian Angel, complete with the most beautiful wings he had ever seen, multiple eyes, and a sword of flame. Aziraphale couldn’t take his eyes off it. Angel him seemed almost to be breathing, so life like he was. There were so many details. Each feather was perfect, and the folds in the robe were neat and precise. Aziraphale stepped closer. Curled up at the angel’s bare feet was a black and red serpent, looking up at the angel with snakey devotion. Placed on top of the coils was a single red apple.

The background of the painting was a beautiful garden resplendent with apple trees. “Crowley...”

‘Do you like it?’

Aziraphale nodded. “I love it. It’s...beyond anything I ever expected. Does it have a name?”

‘Guardian. See, I um...looked your name up.’

Aziraphale laughed. “Yes, named for the Guard of the East Gate of Eden. You know, there’s an apocryphal story that claims when Adam and Eve were sent away, the angel Aziraphale gave Adam his sword to keep them warm. I always liked that story.”

‘Me too.’ Crowley kissed him, then grinned. ‘Master? You know how you said earlier about drawing you?’

Aziraphale beamed. “Race you to the bedroom.” Crowley laughed, and they ran out of the studio and down the hall to their bedroom. Aziraphale stripped off and climbed onto the bed, positioning himself on his side like he had that afternoon. Crowley dragged the chair over and was about to sit down when Aziraphale spoke. “It hardly seems fair for you to be clothed, Pet. I want you naked as well.” Crowley stripped and sat down, the sketchbook in his lap.

Aziraphale gulped. God, his pet was so beautiful. He could see his lovely cock peeking out from under the sketchbook as Crowley drew him. The gallery owner had a sudden wicked, delicious thought. He placed one hand on his cock and began stroking it languidly, humming to himself. Crowley swallowed and focused on the page, his hand shaking a tiny bit. “Do you have any idea, my pet, how fuckable you look right now? Watching you work is such an erotic thrill, and here you are, naked and gorgeous, drawing me like this. You know, I think I could come just from watching you draw me?” Aziraphale moaned, stroking a bit faster. “I promise not to move anything except my hand.”

Crowley moaned in want. He took a deep breath and continued drawing, shading in Aziraphale’s thick thighs and legs before taking another breath and starting on his erect cock. Aziraphale moaned again, his hand speeding up, and Crowley’s reserve broke. He tossed the sketchbook aside and flew over to the bed, closing his hand over Aziraphale’s and lifting it away before leaning forward and swallowing him to the hilt, sucking hard.

Aziraphale’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he shifted so he was sitting up. He dug his hands into Crowley’s hair and began thrusting down his throat. “Good boy, suck Master, good, sweet boy, so good for me, so sweet, so loving, my good pet.”

Crowley whined in pleasure and placed his hands on Aziraphale’s thighs, squeezing. Aziraphale by now was acutely attuned to his pet’s desires. “You may caress my balls, my sweet one.” Crowley whimpered and took the heavy balls in his hands, rolling them around and stroking the firm flesh. Aziraphale began thrusting harder, a groan of pleasure on his lips. “Anthony...sweet little slut, my gorgeous serpent...”

Crowley’s whine was near constant as he sucked Aziraphale, chasing his pleasure. He needed Master’s come, needed to feel the heat of it as he swallowed him down. Aziraphale’s come was manna to him.

Aziraphale’s hips bucked once, twice, and he screamed Crowley’s name as he came down the red head’s throat. Crowley swallowed, tears of happiness in his eyes.

Aziraphale hooked his hands under Crowley’s shoulders and pulled him onto the bed and on top of him. They kissed for several moments, their tongues tangling together, and Aziraphale could taste himself on Crowley’s lips. Their cocks rubbed together, and Aziraphale keened. “Ride me.” He said in a hoarse voice. Crowley grabbed the lube from the nightstand and sat up on his haunches. Aziraphale whimpered as Crowley opened himself up, his gold eyes dark. “Yess...” Aziraphale hissed as Crowley settled himself on the blond’s cock. He focused on Crowley’s braided hair. “Take...braid out while you fuck yourself on me.”

Crowley whined and began moving up and down, impaling himself on Aziraphale’s cock. He dug his hands into his hair and began undoing his braid, eyes fixed on the blond. Aziraphale groaned and began fucking up into Crowley, his eyes fixed on the braid. “Jesus fuck that is so fucking hot oh fuck Crowley ride me harder pet fuck yourself on my cock, oh...” Crowley sped up, his upper body undulating as he took Aziraphale in deeper. “Yes pet yes oh my darling my dear my love love you so fucking much Crowley...I...” Aziraphale’s mind went blank when Crowley shook his hair out, letting it fall over his chest.

Aziraphale sat up, wrapped Crowley’s hair in one hand, and fucked him into oblivion.

Two days later, Aziraphale was sitting in his office going over some paperwork when Newt knocked on the door and stuck his head in. “Excuse me, Mr. Fell?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“You remember that lady that called last week about a tour for her art club?”

Aziraphale thought for a moment. “Yes, of course. Has she arrived?”

Newt nodded. “Yep. Waiting on you.” Aziraphale neatly put the papers back in their folder and placed the folder in his desk before standing.

“Lead the way, Newt.”

A group of ladies was standing in the lobby. Aziraphale came over, a smile on his face and his hand extended. “Greetings, ladies. Welcome to Fell Gallery. I’m Aziraphale Fell, the owner.”

A tall, graceful woman with dark red hair just starting to go gray stepped forward, her own hand extended. “Liliana Everett. I’m the, well, I’d guess you’d call me the chair woman. I heard about your gallery from a family member. I believe you have his work displayed.”

Aziraphale blinked. “I may… what’s his name?”

Liliana smiled. “Anthony Crowley.”

Aziraphale just barely managed to keep from choking. “Yes, I know him. What’s uh...your relationship?”

“He’s my son. If it’s possible, could we see his exhibition first?” Aziraphale could only nod. He shook himself.

“Of course. If you ladies will follow me.” Still gobsmacked, he led the group down the hall to the New Artist room. “Here we are.”

They stepped in and cried out in amazement.

“Oh, it’s remarkable!”

“Such beautiful paintings!”

“Lili, you must be so proud!”

Liliana Crowley hadn’t spoken yet. She was looking around in awe. “I never knew...he was forever drawing, and they were so good, so lifelike. He wanted so badly to go to school for art, but then my husband got sick, and Tony put aside his dream to take care of things.” She turned to Aziraphale. “He texted me when you chose him. Told me what an honor it was. Thank you for giving him a chance.”

Aziraphale smiled. “It was my privilege. Has...Anthony...said anything else about me?”

“No, why?”

Aziraphale felt his heart fall to his stomach. “No..no reason. Shall we continue the tour?”

Crowley knew instantly that something was wrong when Aziraphale came home. The blond didn’t even look at him. Crowley came over to the sofa and sat next to him, resting his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale pushed him away. Crowley blinked, tears starting to form. Aziraphale huffed. “I met someone today. This group of ladies who have an art club came to the gallery for a tour. One of them was a redhead. Her name was Liliana. Wasn’t that your mother’s name?”

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale turned and glared at him.

“Funny thing, she told me you informed her about getting into the gallery but neglected to mention that we were lovers. Did it slip your mind? I mean, one would think that four months is enough time to inform a parent about a significant other!”

Crowley shrank back at the vehemence in Aziraphale’s voice.

“I have the excuse that I no longer speak to my family, but from what you’ve told me, you and your mother do not have that obstacle. So why didn’t you tell her?!”

‘W...wanted to..su..surprise her. I...was going to ask you to come home with me this weekend to meet her!” Crowley angrily signed. ‘How dare you, Aziraphale! How dare you think I was ashamed, or...embarrassed, or hiding anything! I love you more than life itself! I would never hide you from anyone! You fucking bastard!’ Crowley stood from the sofa and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Aziraphale buried his face in his hands and sighed. “Shit.”

Crowley sniffled loudly, hiding under the blankets. God damn that bastard. What right did he have to get so mad? Crowley sniffled again. He hated fighting. Aziraphale hated fighting.

As if thinking his name had summoned him, Crowley felt the bed creak as Aziraphale climbed on, placing his hand on the lump that was the artist. “Darling, I’m so sorry.”

Crowley slithered out from under the blankets and wrapped himself around his master. ‘Me too. Hate fighting.’

“I know, my love. If...you still want me to come home with you...” Crowley nodded vigorously. “Darling...are you going to tell your mother the **entire** truth about our relationship?”

Crowley’s face said it all.


	8. Dinner and Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to properly meet Crowley's mother.

Chapter Eight: Dinner and Decisions

Crowley zipped the suitcase closed and set it on the floor before picking up the handle and extending it so he could drag it out on its wheels to the front door of the flat. He placed it next to Aziraphale’s tartan one, then went into his studio and grabbed a handful of sketchbooks and pencils. He put those in their own case and took that out to the front door.

Aziraphale was on the phone in the living room. “Yes Newt, the whole weekend. I trust you to run things in my absence. Yes. If anything of life or death importance arises, you have my mobile. Again, I trust you. Good bye.” He hung up, smiling at Crowley. “All ready, love?”

‘Yep. Got the tickets?’ Aziraphale patted his shirt pocket.

Since Crowley’s child hood home was far out in the country, they had opted for train tickets rather than driving. Aziraphale saying that he’d like to see the country and not just watch it blur by. Aziraphale had, of course, gone all out and gotten them a private car complete with first class dining. “Right here, love. Shall we?”

Crowley grabbed his suitcase and they headed out. They were taking the Bentley to the station, and Aziraphale clung to the handle and prayed while Crowley slalomed in and out of traffic. With his lead foot, they arrived with twenty minutes to spare. Aziraphale stumbled out of the car and waited for his legs to stop shaking. No matter what he tried, his pet remained a speed demon. “Let’s...go wait for the train.” They unloaded their suitcases, then Crowley went over to a kiosk and got a weekend parking pass for the Bentley.

The station wasn’t too busy, and Crowley and Aziraphale found an empty bench to sit on. Aziraphale went over to the food area and got them each a coffee(cream with sugar for Aziraphale, black for Crowley) and some pastries. He came back and handed Crowley a rather sad looking cherry Danish. “I know it’s not much, but you need some food in you. And coffee.” Aziraphale took a bite of his pastry, a chocolate croissant, and shrugged. “I’ve had worse.” The coffee was fine, typical of the sort one finds at train stations.

Crowley finished his Danish and wiped his mouth, then tossed his empty cup and napkin into the nearby bin. He yawned, leaning against Aziraphale, who automatically began carding his fingers through Crowley’s tresses. “Tired, pet?”

Crowley yawned again. ‘It is really early.’

“You’re the one who wanted to make an early start, pet. And it’s eight o clock.”

Crowley, who normally didn’t wake up until ten on some days, pouted. ‘Yeah. Early.’ He looked up at Aziraphale. ‘I’m a night owl.’

“That you are.” Aziraphale agreed, dropping a kiss to his lips. “Now budge up, our train’s about to arrive.” Crowley pouted but sat up, watching as the train pulled into the station.

Their tickets were in order, and the porter showed them to their car. Crowley whistled at how luxurious it was. They stowed their suitcases in the compartment(Crowley kept one of his sketchbooks and pencil cases out) then sat, Aziraphale pulling Crowley into his lap. “So. We’ve got about four hours of ride time. This car is very private. No one else around.” Aziraphale hissed in pleasure when Crowley began stroking him through his trousers. “I’ve always had this fantasy about fucking on a train.” Aziraphale whispered in Crowley’s ear. The artist moaned when his master scraped his neck with his teeth. “It’s very detailed, my fantasy. Do you want to hear it?” Crowley groaned and sped up his motions.

Aziraphale gasped. “We’re in a compartment, much like this one. You’re on your knees in front of me.” Crowley slid to the floor, eyes bright with devotion as he gazed up at Aziraphale. The blond petted him for a few minutes. Crowley shut his eyes in ecstasy and leaned into Aziraphale’s touch, rumbling happily. “You kiss me through my trousers, stroking my legs.”

Crowley leaned forward and planted a searing kiss to Aziraphale’s clothed cock, his long fingers stroking the thick thighs. Aziraphale groaned, twitching his hips. “Oh...yes...then..you unzip me, licking my cock in intervals until it’s...oh, Crowley...until it’s out...”

Crowley took Aziraphale’s zipper in hand and pulled it down an inch, pressing his tongue against Aziraphale’s boxers. He unzipped him another inch, pulling the boxers down along with the trousers, and licked obscenely at the leaking head. Aziraphale moaned. Crowley continued licking until Aziraphale’s cock was free, then he kissed Aziraphale’s balls before gazing up at him.

“Listen to the train, Pet.” Crowley cocked his head. “Do you hear the rhythm?” A nod. “Good. Suck me to it.”

Crowley shut his eyes and listened, then opened them. He stroked Aziraphale with a finger before swallowing him to the hilt and sucking. Aziraphale’s head fell back on the seat and he gasped in pleasure. “Touch yourself...”

Crowley whined and undid his trousers, taking his hard cock in hand and stroking. Aziraphale grabbed his braid and tugged, at the same time bucking his hips so his cock hit the back of Crowley’s throat. “You are not permitted to come, do you understand? I don’t want to make a mess of this compartment.”

Crowley whimpered and continued to stroke himself, his cock throbbing. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked Master harder, knowing that Aziraphale was close to his own orgasm. He gave one harsh, hard suck, and Aziraphale howled and came down his throat. Crowley swallowed, his own cock aching with need. He looked up at Aziraphale, eyes wide and pleading.

Aziraphale smiled gently. “The fantasy’s not done, Pet. Take off your trousers.” Crowley shucked them off and tossed them aside, leaving him in nothing but his shirt. “Come sit on my lap, Pet.” Crowley slid into Aziraphale’s lap, their cocks rubbing together, and the artist almost came right then. Aziraphale took hold of him. “Once you’re in my lap, I give your balls a gentle squeeze...” Crowley howled as Aziraphale did just that. “Then we take our time, unbutton each others’ shirts, kissing each other.”

Crowley smashed his mouth to Aziraphale’s in a filthy, tongue filled kiss. Aziraphale’s shirt had quite a few buttons, and Crowley whined in frustration. He so wanted to just rip Master’s shirt open, but he knew Master didn’t like that. So he was careful. Finally, Aziraphale’s shirt was open. Crowley, who had far less buttons on his shirt, found himself very distracted by the feel of Aziraphale’s teeth on his right nipple. Whining, he arched into Aziraphale’s touch.

Aziraphale struggled out of his trousers, sighing in relief. He licked Crowley’s nipple before biting down, leaving a crescent shaped mark. Now it was time to make the best part of the fantasy come true. “Pet, look at me.” Crowley locked eyes with him. “Will you be okay being fucked without lube?” Eager nodding. “Good. Mount me, my gorgeous slut.” Crowley keened high in his throat and lifted up his hips, then lowered himself onto Aziraphale’s throbbing cock with a cry. Aziraphale cried out as well. “Oh, my sweet pet...ride me, my love...ride me as hard as you can...”

Crowley pistoned his hips, and Aziraphale saw stars. “Yes!” Crowley smiled down at him and repeated the movement. Aziraphale nearly came off the bench. “Oh my god, Pet...”

Crowley rode him hard, arching up and slamming back down, a continuous whine of pleasure coming from his mouth. Aziraphale held onto his hips, babbling praise. “Yes pet oh so wonderful you feel so fucking good such a good boy such a darling love so good for Master so good so wonderful fuck yourself on me my love my good pet my sweet darling I’m so close my pet so close to filling you with my spend oh Crowley, you are so fucking...” Aziraphale came deep inside Crowley with a cry.

Crowley’s own cock was throbbing. Aziraphale grasped hold of it. “Come for Master, Crowley, come all over yourself for me, paint yourself in your come...” Crowley howled like a banshee and came, splattering his chest and some of his face with come. Aziraphale grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a passionate kiss. “Such a good boy. Clean yourself up.”

Crowley wiped his face and chest, then stuck his fingers in his mouth and licked them clean, never taking his eyes off Aziraphale. ‘Love you, Master.’

“I love you too. Now, let’s make ourselves presentable and go get some food. Good sex always makes me hungry.”

‘Well, then you must be starving.’ Crowley said, a smirk of pride on his face. Aziraphale laughed until he hiccuped.

The rest of the train ride was uneventful, and they arrived at their destination just before one o clock. Crowley got an Uber while Aziraphale went to the loo. The car arrived, and Crowley handed a paper with his home address to the driver.

Crowley’s childhood home turned out to be a very nice brick house with a stone pathway leading up to the front porch where a swing covered in cushions sat. The yard was very well kept, and Aziraphale could see what looked like a beautiful English garden in the back. Crowley linked their hands and smiled reassuringly at him before stepping up to the door and knocking.

It was opened seconds later, and Liliana threw her arms around Crowley. “Anthony! What a lovely surprise! I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow! Come in!” Crowley pulled Aziraphale inside, and the gallery owner looked around. The house was very homey, with mismatched but very comfortable looking furniture, a few potted plants, and a tile floor.

Liliana finally noticed Aziraphale. “Mr. Fell. This is...a surprise. Anthony, is everything okay?”

Crowley nodded. ‘Yes Mum. Remember I told you I was bringing someone for you to meet? Aziraphale’s that someone.’ Liliana blinked, then grinned.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. But there isn’t any...conflict, is there?”

Aziraphale smiled. “No, Madam, none at all. I first met Crowley when he came to my office to sign the contract, that is true. But after he had signed, I asked if he wanted to get some dinner to celebrate. And well, we hit it off.” Crowley bit back a giggle. They had had dinner that night, but it had happened after Aziraphale had given him the most amazing sex ever. “He’s an amazing person, your son, and I love him very much.”

Crowley hummed and laid his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Liliana smiled at the affectionate display. “So sweet. Now, Anthony, your room is all made up, like usual. Aziraphale, may I call you Aziraphale?”

“Of course, Mrs. Crowley.”

“Liliana, please.”

“Liliana. What a lovely name.”

Liliana blushed. “Why thank you. As I was saying, Anthony’s bed is a bit small, but you should be able to squeeze in with him. I’m assuming you want to share a room?” Twin nods. “I thought so. I only ask that you not make too much noise.” Crowley bit back a grin. “Now, I’m sure you’re tired. Why don’t you both go lie down for a bit, and I’ll go to the grocers and get stuff for dinner. How does roast chicken sound?” Crowley nodded eagerly. “Okay then.”

Liliana headed for town and the grocers. Aziraphale and Crowley toted their bags down the hall. Crowley stopped at a door, pushing it open and ushering Aziraphale into his old bedroom. It was furnished with a double bed, a battered dresser, and nothing else. They placed their suitcases in the small closet. Crowley laid on the bed and Aziraphale climbed in next to him. “Your mother was right. Not much room. Just means I get to hold you closer.” Crowley wrapped himself around the blond with a happy rumbling hum. Aziraphale kissed his forehead. “Love you, my pet.” Crowley purred, rubbing against his chest. “So, how are you going to explain our...arrangement to your mother?”

‘I’ll think of something.’

They lay in each others’ arms, kissing and caressing until Liliana came home and commandeered their help with making dinner. Aziraphale was more than happy to help. He and Liliana chatted over everything and nothing as they sliced and chopped. Crowley watched, beaming at the two most important people in his life. He knew he would have to tell his mom the truth. He only hoped she would be accepting.

Dinner as prepped by Aziraphale and Liliana was a roaring success. Aziraphale ate two helpings, declaring that it was the best chicken he had ever had. Liliana beamed at the compliments.

After dinner, Crowley gathered all his courage and asked to talk to his mother in private. They went out in the backyard. “What’s wrong, Anthony?”

Crowley gulped. ‘Um...I need to tell you something. It’s about my relationship with Aziraphale.’

Liliana frowned. “What about it? He’s not abusing you, is he?!”

‘NO! But it’s...um...unconventional. Um...do you know what Dominants and Submissives are?’

Liliana looked puzzled for a minute, then nodded. “I...believe so. Why?”

Crowley blushed crimson. ‘I’m...a submissive. Aziraphale’s submissive, to be exact. It means I...do what he tells me..sex wise. But he doesn’t hurt me. And...I’m the one with the...if I want him to stop, he stops.’

Liliana’s face was neutral. “Go on.”

‘Um...he has a nickname for me. Pet.’

“Do you call him anything?”

‘Master. I know it’s...not the most conventional relationship, but...Mum, I love him so much. When he looks at me, it’s like I’m flying. He looks at me the way Dad used to look at you, like you were the only person in the universe. He’s so kind, and sweet, and he takes care of me in a way I didn’t know was possible. He has never once made fun of my muteness.’

Liliana smiled. “Anthony, I could tell from the second I met Aziraphale properly that you loved him. It was radiating from both of you. You may have a different relationship from ones I’m used to, but so long as you love each other, that is all that matters.”

Crowley slumped in relief, tears flowing. Liliana pulled him into a tight hug. “I love you, Anthony. I always will, no matter what.”

‘Love you too, Mum. Oh, and I might be Tonya tomorrow, if that’s okay.’

“That’s fine, love. Did you need to borrow one of my dresses?”

“Brought my own.”

“Okay. Now, let’s go back inside before your man starts to worry.” Crowley laughed and they went back into the house. Aziraphale looked up from his spot in a very squashy and very comfy chair.

“Everything alright?”

Liliana smiled. “Everything’s fine. Anthony explained it all. I can’t say I understand or entirely approve, but it’s abundantly clear that you two are very much in love, so I can at least accept that. So welcome to the family, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “Thank you, Liliana.”

Liliana grinned wickedly. “And as an official family member, you are entitled to one secret.” She came over and whispered in his ear. Aziraphale burst into giggles.

“Really?” Liliana nodded. Aziraphale looked at Crowley, grinning.

Crowley’s face fell. He glared at his mother. ‘You didn’t!’

Aziraphale giggled. “Didn’t what, Anthony **Jackson** Crowley?”

Crowley stuck his tongue out. Aziraphale and Liliana looked at each other and fell over laughing. Crowley huffed and flopped onto the sofa, arms crossed and an exaggerated pout on his face. ‘S ‘not funny.’

Aziraphale came over and pulled him into his lap, kissing the side of his head. “It’s a little funny, love. Are you named for the painter?”

‘Nah. My great grandad. Always thought Pollock was over rated, to be honest.’

“I have to agree with you there.” Crowley sighed and leaned against Aziraphale.

Liliana watched as Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s hair, tugging gently on his braid before going back up to the scalp and scratching gently. Crowley was limp and languid, a smile on his face and his eyes closed in bliss. “He likes that.”

“He loves it. It’s a sure way to get him to relax. Your son is a remarkable man.”

“Yes, he is. After Charles, my husband, died, Anthony stepped up. I was..in a very bad place, and he made sure this house didn’t fall to pieces. He found some help for me. Had to practically drag me to my first session. But things got better, and about a year ago I started an art club with some friends of mine. We do a bit of painting and go to different galleries, that sort of thing.”

“Sounds fun. Do you have any of your paintings?” Liliana nodded and went down the hall, returning with a painting of a beach scene. “It’s quite good.”

“It’s okay. Nowhere near Anthony’s skill level, though.”

Aziraphale nodded. “His talent is remarkable. Did he get it from anyone?”

Liliana shook her head. “Charles could barely draw a stick figure. I sketched once in a while, but even from a young age Anthony’s drawings were a marvel. He’s a prodigy. I think...maybe all the parts of him that were meant to be used for speech got turned into artistic ability, as a way for him to communicate.”

Aziraphale scratched the sleeping artist’s scalp gently. “Was it..difficult, growing up?”

“At first, yes. When we got the diagnosis, we cried all night. I thought maybe...something had gone wrong in the womb, that I had done something. But then we realized that Anthony was a bright, vivacious child, and we vowed to find ways of communicating. We both took sign language classes, and learned to interpret his body language and facial expressions.”

“He is remarkably expressive.”

Liliana smiled. “That he is. We had our first hurdle when he was old enough to go to school. We did our best to explain to the teachers, but some understood and some didn’t. He was also bullied quite horribly until Charles confronted the parents of the bullies and made it clear that such behavior wouldn’t be tolerated. After that, things got better.”

“Crowley told me once that he was planning on going to Uni for art.”

Liliana sighed. “Yes. We were both so thrilled for him. Then Charles got diagnosed, and Anthony made the decision not to go. We both told him not to give up on his dream, but he was adamant. And, well, once the bills started piling up...”

Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s braid, smiling to himself as the redhead made a happy snuffling sound and settled in to a deeper sleep. “I’d probably dance a jig if my father passed. He and I...let’s just say we do not get along. At all. Nor do I get along with the rest of my family.”

Liliana frowned in sympathy. “Is it..because you’re gay?”

“That is the biggest reason, yes. But also because I refuse to follow in their footsteps and be a corporate shark. My gallery is my act of defiance, my way of proving I’m not them and will never be them.”

“Well, I’m glad. Anthony would never love a corporate shark.”

Aziraphale blushed, then yawned. “Oh my, it’s late. We should head to bed. Crowley, darling, wake up.” Crowley blinked awake. “Bed time, love.”

‘Night, Mum.’

“Good night. And remember what I said about noise.” Liliana said with a wicked smirk

‘MUM!’ Crowley was beet red. Aziraphale coughed.

“Yes, well, good night.”

Crowley shimmied under the covers, watching as Aziraphale undressed and climbed into bed with him. “Now, Pet, your mother did say not to make any noise...”

Crowley stuffed his fist into his mouth.


	9. Guide and Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley shows Aziraphale around town, runs into some bullies, and is amazed by Aziraphale.

Chapter Nine: Guide and Guardian

Aziraphale yawned and stretched, sitting up. Outside the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. Crowley stirred, hummed, and went back to sleep. Aziraphale kissed his forehead and climbed out of bed, pulling on a pair of light blue boxers, beige cotton slacks, and a light gray shirt before heading out of the bedroom to the kitchen.

Liliana was already awake, a steaming mug in front of her. “Good morning. There’s coffee brewing if you want it.” Aziraphale’s face lit up and he went over to the coffee machine. “Mugs are in the pantry above you.” Aziraphale reached in the pantry and got down a mug with angel wings for a handle, then fixed himself some coffee and sat across from her. “I take it Anthony’s still asleep?”

“Yeah.”

Liliana took a sip of her coffee. “Wore him out, did you?” Aziraphale smirked over the rim of his mug.

“More like we wore each other out.”

Liliana cackled. “Oh, you’re a feisty one. I can see why Anthony’s so enamored with you.” Aziraphale blushed, taking a long sip.

“It’s mutual, you know. I love Crowley more than anything in this universe. I love him for his wit, his kindness, his beauty, his intelligence, and in a way, for his silence. He may not be able to speak, but he communicates so well.”

Liliana smiled. “That he does.” She took another sip of coffee. “May I ask you a somewhat personal question?” Aziraphale looked hesitant, but nodded. “Your last name is Fell, right?”

“If you’re going to ask me if I am related to the people that run Fell Industries, yes. I’m the black sheep son. I am also quite obscenely wealthy, thanks to my buying my share in the company and also inheriting quite a tidy sum from my grandparents.”

“Does Anthony know?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Yes, he’s very aware of my wealth. I spend most of my money on him these days. I love indulging him.”

Liliana frowned. “And how does he repay your indulgence?”

Aziraphale glared at her. “I do not buy him things to force him to have sex, if that is what you are implying. I buy things for him because I love seeing his face light up when he receives them. I would never put conditions like that upon our relationship.”

Liliana looked contrite. “I am sorry, I should not have presumed.” Aziraphale’s face softened.

“Apology accepted.”

The sound of footsteps made them turn. Crowley was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, hair still mussy from sleep. She had on a long red skirt that flared at the bottom and her favorite black blouse with glitter sequins. She had put in the moon earrings Aziraphale had given her and painted her nails with stars, and had on red and black trainers.

“Good morning, darling.” Aziraphale said softly. Crowley came over and sat in the chair next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Going feminine today, my love?” A nod. Crowley pointed at the mug.

‘Angel wings. Suits you.’

Aziraphale chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it does. She calls me Angel sometimes.” He said to Liliana in explanation.

“Ah, okay. An..sorry, Tonya. Any plans for today?”

Crowley nodded. ‘Wanna show Aziraphale the town. Go to breakfast at Sammy’s first, then do some shopping, then lunch, then the lake. You’ll like the lake. Lots of ducks.’

“That sounds perfect, Pet. Should I put on a jacket?”

‘Nah, you should be fine without. ‘Sides, I love seeing your muscles.’ Crowley said with a blush on her face. Aziraphale flexed his arms, and Crowley sighed exaggeratedly, batting her eyes. ‘Such a strong man.’

“You know it, pet.” Aziraphale said in a low voice. Crowley gulped.

“No PDA at the table, please.” Liliana said dryly, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Why don’t you two get going so you don’t waste the day? You can take the car if you want.”

Crowley shook her head. ‘It’s not far. Do you mind walking, Angel?’

“Not at all. The exercise will do me good.” Aziraphale rinsed out his mug and placed it in the dish rack, then went into the bedroom and donned a pair of trainers. “Ready when you are, love.”

Crowley gave her mom a hug. ‘We’ll be back for supper, promise.’

“Oh, take your time. I’ve got plenty on my plate today, so no worries. You go have fun.”

‘Will do. C’mon Angel.’

Crowley and Aziraphale walked down the road to town, hand in hand. “So what’s the name of this place?”

‘Tadfield. It’s really nice. Most everyone’s great.’

“Most?”

Crowley made a face. ‘There’s a few assholes, but isn’t that true of every small town?’

“Yes, and sometimes more than a few.” Aziraphale remarked.

It took about ten minutes to reach the town proper. It was, as Crowley had said, rather nice. The shops were well kept, the streets and sidewalks were clean of debris, and the whole town had an atmosphere of welcoming and warmth. “Oh, Crowley, it’s lovely.” Crowley grinned.

‘Yeah, it’s not bad. Bet you’re wondering why I ever left.’ Aziraphale looked a bit shocked. ‘My ambition exceeded the town’s limits. If that makes sense.’

“That makes perfect sense. Now, you said something about breakfast?”

Crowley laughed and pulled Aziraphale down the street, stopping at a building with a brick facade and large windows. Written on one of the windows in scrolling script was the legend ‘SAMMY’S DINER’ Under it in smaller script was ‘OPEN 24 HOURS’. Aziraphale could see people eating through the window. Crowley led him inside. The aroma of cooking food made Aziraphale’s mouth start watering.

A young man with a rather unfortunate crew cut came over. “Welcome to Sammy’s. I’m Gregory. Booth or table?”

“A booth, I think.”

“Okay, this way.” They were led over to a booth. Aziraphale slid in and Crowley slid in next to him. Gregory looked at her. “Tony?”

‘Tonya.’ Crowley scrawled on a napkin.

“Right, sorry. How you been?”

‘Better than you. What escapee from the asylum took a weed whacker to your hair?’

Greg sighed. “I did it.”

‘And just how smashed were you?’

Greg glared at him without heat. “I was perfectly sober. Now, are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

‘Aziraphale, this is Gregory Fielding. He was one of my best mates growing up.’

Aziraphale and Greg shook hands.

“Pleasure. I’ve got to get back to hosting duties. Chandra should be over soon.” Greg went back to the host station. Aziraphale perused the menu.

“What’s good here?”

‘Everything, but Flora’s-that’s the cook- Eggs Benedict is the best I’ve ever eaten.’

“Then that is what I shall have.”

A buxom blonde came over. “Hi, sorry if you were kept waiting. I’m Chandra. Are you ready to order?”

“Yes, I believe so. Two orders of Eggs Benedict, plus two cups of coffee. One black, one with cream and sugar.”

Chandra scribbled the order down. “You got it.” She pocketed her pad. “So, how you been?” She asked Crowley.

Crowley gestured, and Chandra tore off a piece of paper and handed it to her. ‘I’m doing good. Oh, and this gorgeous blond sitting next to me is my boyfriend Aziraphale.’

“Nice to meetcha. I’ll get the orders in.” Chandra sashayed off. Aziraphale smirked.

“So how do you know her?”

‘We grew up together. Also went on a disastrous date before I realized I was not attracted to women.’

“Ah. I’ve always wondered...how did your parents react? Did you have the chance to tell them both?”

‘Yeah. I was shaking from nerves when I told them. But they told me I was still their child, no matter what. I never got the chance to tell Dad about my gender fluidity, though. Took Mum a bit to stop misgendering me, but she never did it out of malice.’

The food arrived, and Aziraphale’s eyes widened at the generous portions. “Oh my, this looks absolutely scrummy.” He dug in, gasping in delight as the egg yolk oozed out. “Marvelous!”

Crowley took a bite of her own eggs, sighing. ‘Told ya it was good.’

“Good doesn’t do it justice! This is heavenly!” Aziraphale exclaimed around a mouthful of egg and ham. “Coffee’s quite delicious as well.”

After a wonderful breakfast, they strolled down the sidewalk, looking in at the windows of the shops. Aziraphale suddenly stopped. “A book shop!” He exclaimed in glee. Crowley allowed herself to be dragged in.

Aziraphale sighed happily. The shop was packed floor to ceiling with books of all shapes and sizes. They sat on shelves and tables. “Lovely.”

An old man came out from the back. “Morning. I’m Amos, welcome to the Dog Eared. Feel free to look around. We got a sale going today, if you buy four paperbacks you get the fifth for only a pound.”

“What a bargain.” Aziraphale said with a smile. “Darling, I’m going to look around.” Crowley nodded and sat in one of the chairs in the front of the shop. She knew how much Aziraphale loved books. Indeed, Fell Gallery had once been a book shop in the late 1800s up until the advent of World War I. Aziraphale had done some research on the original owner, one A.Z. Fell, and had been shocked to find that he was a distant cousin(his real first name had been Absolem) who had been, in the vernacular of the times, a ‘confirmed bachelor’. Aziraphale had found a picture of him online. Absolem was a plump man with white blond hair and green eyes. Crowley had remarked on how alike the eyes were.

After Absolem died, the shop was passed over to his sister and her husband, who looked after it until their deaths, whereupon it passed to their children, and to their children, until finally the last child was gone. The shop fell into disrepair and was on the verge of being condemned and knocked down when Aziraphale snapped it up for a song.

Crowley came back to the present, yawning and peeking into the stacks to see if she could spot her master. Sure enough, there he was in the science fiction section, arms piled high with paperback pulp books.

Aziraphale deposited his finds on the counter. Amos began scanning them. “This all?”

“Yes.”

Amos put the books in a bag. “That’ll be twenty pounds even.” Aziraphale dug into his wallet and handed Amos a twenty pound note. “Thank you kindly. Enjoy your reading.”

“I always do.”

They went out into the sunshine, Aziraphale’s bag dangling from his hands. ‘That’s not too heavy, is it?’

“My dear, I routinely lift giant paintings and massive sculpture. A bag of books is hardly going to task me.”

‘Right. I..oh, fuck.’ Crowley’s face fell and she began to tug Aziraphale back the way they had come.

“What’s wrong?”

Crowley pointed to a group of men down the way. ‘Remember me telling you every town has its assholes? Those are Tadfield’s. Come on, I don’t feel like dealing with them.’

Aziraphale sighed. “You may not have a choice. Looks like they’re headed this way.” Crowley whimpered as the three men came over, identical mean grins on their faces. The largest, most stupid looking one(in Aziraphale’s mind) spoke.

“Well, if it ain’t the dummy. How you doing, dummy? Oh, wait, you can’t tell us.” The other two laughed mockingly. Crowley glared at them. “Why you dressed like that, Dummy? You ain’t a girl, you’re a Dummy.”

“Excuse me.” Aziraphale’s voice, though mild, held a hint of command. “How old are you?”

“Why’s that any of your business?” Stupid asked. Aziraphale shrugged.

“Just wondering, because a grown man acting like a schoolyard bully is a sure sign of rampant lack of intelligence.”

Stupid took a very long time to think. “You calling me stupid?”

“And immature, yes. I suggest you leave Crowley be.” Aziraphale’s voice carried a threat. Stupid, who was about a head taller, snorted.

“And what if I don’t? What are you going to do about it, you fucking pansy? You gonna fight me? Huh?” He poked Aziraphale hard in the chest. His lackeys laughed. “You gonna hit me? Huh? I dare you!”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I abhor violence.”

“You’re a wimp. C’mon, I dare you. Wimpy fag, come on, hit me!”

Aziraphale gave a long suffering sigh. “Very well, if it will alleviate that primitive excuse for a brain of yours.”

Stupid smiled at him in mock sympathy. “Try not to hurt yourself too...”

Aziraphale clobbered him in the jaw with a left hook that sent him spinning. He crashed to the pavement. Aziraphale shook out his hand. “I trust that is sufficient, or shall I hit you again?”

“Broke my fucking jaw!”

“Nonsense, you’ll be fine. Now, will you leave Crowley be?” A weak nod. “Good. Come along, dear. I want to see more shops.”

Crowley, her heart pounding in desire, followed Aziraphale. ‘Where did you learn to punch like that?’

Aziraphale blushed. “I took boxing in University as a way to keep somewhat fit. What about you? What’s the story with that lot back there?”

‘They were the biggest bullies in school. Picked on everyone, but I was their favorite target.’

Aziraphale snorted. “Seems as though they’re still in school. Very uncouth, that large fellow.” Crowley giggled.

‘Thank you for defending me. My knight in shining beige.’ Aziraphale laughed and shoved her playfully.

“You’re welcome, Pet.”

They went into a few more shops before going back to Sammy’s for lunch. Aziraphale had a ham and cheese with chips and Crowley had a burger. After lunch, Crowley took Aziraphale to the lake, and they sat on one of the many benches surrounding it, watching the ducks swim. ‘Should have gotten some bread.’ Crowley remarked.

“It’s bad for them. Peas are best.”

‘Oh. So...are you enjoying yourself?’

Aziraphale cupped her face. “Darling, I am with you. **Of course** I’m enjoying myself.” They kissed, their hands caressing each others’ faces. “I love you, Pet.”

‘Love you too Master.’ 

They walked around the lake, arm in arm. A breeze had sprung up, and it made the air cool. ‘Summertime, this place is packed with swimmers.’ Crowley said. 

“I can imagine.” Aziraphale looked out at the still waters. “I love swimming. We used to go to the sea side for our holidays when I was younger. Father taught me how to swim.”

‘Mum taught me. Right in the lake, too. Dad couldn’t, he was working all the time.’

“What did your parents do for a living?”

‘Mum was a teacher, and Dad worked in a factory a few towns over. We weren’t dirt poor, but there were a lot of times we were living hand to mouth. A lot of my clothes growing up were from charity shops. It’s also why I wear my hair so long. I couldn’t afford to get it cut. Mum used to do it, but I always ended up looking like Moe from the Three Stooges, so I finally told her to stop.’ 

“You know how much I love your hair.”

Crowley went crimson. 

Dusk was falling by the time they returned to the house. The delicious smell of a roast greeted them. Liliana came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “You’re right on time. I was just about to pull it out of the oven. Tonya, set the table please.”

Crowley saluted and gathered plates and silverware. Aziraphale shifted on the balls of his feet. “Can I help with anything?”

“You’re a guest, guests don’t help.” Liliana said kindly. 

“Oh, but I insist...”

“No. We’ve got it. Go sit.” Liliana said, making a shooing motion. Aziraphale sat. Liliana went into the kitchen and returned with the roast beef on a battered sterling silver platter. “Dinner’s served.” The roast was surrounded by new potatoes and carrots. “Aziraphale, help yourself.” Grinning, Aziraphale did just that. 

“Crowley tells me you were a teacher?” Aziraphale asked between bites. Liliana nodded.

“Yes, for twenty years. I taught Year 3.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I loved it. The children were always so eager to learn. I had to quit when Charles got sick, though. Has Tonya told you about my depression?”

“She has. She also told me she got you help.”

Liliana squeezed Crowley’s hand, smiling at her. “And I am forever grateful for that. I started leaving the house, going places. I even started sketching again. About a year ago, my friend Helen and I decided to start an art appreciation club. We recruited a few more members, and the club’s been active ever since. I felt terrible about not being able to go to Tonya’s exhibit right when she told me, but I had to save up for the train to London as well as the hotel. I make sachets and soaps and sell them in the Market, as well as some of my better sketches.”

‘Mum, if you need money...’ Crowley looked over at Aziraphale. 

“If I can be of help in any way, I will.”

Liliana shook her head. “No, thank you. I managed on my own for this long. Besides, I wouldn’t want to be...obliged to you.”

“You would be under no obligation, Liliana. I have scads of money. I can afford to give some to my lover’s mother as a gift.”

“I won’t deny your offer is a generous one, but again, no thank you.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I understand. No hard feelings?”

“None at all.” 

Crowley watched Aziraphale undress and climb into bed next to her. ‘Thank you for offering to help Mum.’

“I do hope I didn’t offend her.” Crowley shook her head. “Oh good.” Aziraphale kissed her, stroking her bare skin. “Do you think you can be as quiet as you were last night?” Crowley whimpered and pressed closer, nodding. “Good.” Aziraphale pounced, pinning her to the mattress. “We’ve got a long night ahead.”

Crowley shivered in delightful anticipation. 


	10. Earth and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys do some gardening, exchange horrible double entendrees, and go on another picnic.

Chapter Ten: Earth and Water

Aziraphale laced up his trainers before heading out to the kitchen. Liliana was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper. “Anthony’s outside waiting. Coffee’s on the counter in a travel mug, if you like.” Aziraphale grunted in acknowledgment and grabbed the coffee, taking a long sip. He headed for the back door, pushed it open, and saw the garden properly.

It was massive, a riot of flowers and trees in a pattern that made no sense and yet made perfect sense. It was beautiful chaos, and Aziraphale loved it. He went down the back steps and found a path laid with bricks that wound through the landscape. Aziraphale followed the path to Crowley, who was sitting on a park bench under an apple tree smack dab in the middle. Aziraphale sank onto the bench, mock glaring at him. “When you asked me to help you in the garden, I didn’t realize we would wake at seven to do so. I’ve never seen you up this early.”

Crowley smirked. ‘Best time to work is early morning or evening, when the sun isn’t so hot.’ He reached over and handed Aziraphale a trowel. ‘Know how to use one of these?’ Aziraphale glared at him. ‘Just asking. We’re gonna tackle that weed patch over there first.’ Crowley pointed to a giant mass of greenery. Aziraphale boggled.

“That will take all day!”

Crowley handed him a pair of gardening gloves. ‘Then we’d better get to it, hadn’t we?’ Aziraphale sighed in resignation and stood, following Crowley to the weed patch. Crowley plunged his hand into the center of the patch. ‘Aziraphale, you take the trowel and dig it in where I’m pointing.’ Aziraphale saluted. Crowley pointed with his free hand at a spot just to the right of where he was holding. Aziraphale, glad that he was wearing trousers that he didn’t mind getting dirty, crouched in the dirt and worked the trowel into the spot Crowley indicated. He could feel the hard roots of the weeds, all clumped together. “Got it. Now what?”

‘You dig out when I tell you, and I’ll pull. Ready?’ Aziraphale nodded. ‘Okay, dig.’ Aziraphale dug the trowel into the dark, rich soil. Crowley pulled as hard as he could, and a giant pile of weeds came lose, their roots trailing in the dirt. Crowley tossed them aside and went to the next batch, motioning for Aziraphale to place the trowel in a different spot.

Aziraphale dug into the dirt, slicing through the roots with the trowel. He had never really worked with his hands before, and he was finding it immensely satisfying. The smell of the overturned soil was rich, almost cake like. Aziraphale inhaled, a smile on his face. “I’m beginning to understand why you love plants and gardening so much, darling.”

Crowley knelt next to him, digging into the dirt and rooting up a handful of weeds. ‘It’s relaxing, isn’t it?’

“Yes, but it’s more than that. I feel this connection to the earth that I never really felt before.” Aziraphale explained as he pulled up weeds, tossing them into the pile. “We had a garden at the manor, but it was kept by a flock of gardeners, and kept neat and straight.” Aziraphale grinned. “Mother would have a heart attack if she saw this garden.” Crowley frowned at him. “Oh, because she has to have everything in neat, tidy rows. The irises go here, the roses there, the hedges make a path that is straight and has no turns, benches every five feet, that sort of thing. And of course all the flowers and hedges have to be trimmed to specific measurements.”

‘That’s not much of a garden.’ Crowley flicked his hair out of his face. He had braided it up, but strands were always getting lose. ‘I think that’s enough weeding for now. I’ve got some begonias that need to be planted. Want to give me a hand with that?’

“Of course. Lead the way.” Aziraphale stood, wiping the excess dirt off his trousers, and followed Crowley down the garden path to a corner spot that was barren of any plant or flower. Five giant pots of begonias were lined up next to each other. Crowley went over to a small wooden shed nearby and returned with a shovel.

‘Trowel’s not gonna do the job, so we’re gonna take turns digging the holes. Once one is dug, the person not digging will take a begonia out of its pot, plop it in the hole, and push the dirt back in. The hole doesn’t have to be real deep, but it should be deep enough to cover the roots. Got it?’

“Er...I think perhaps you should go first.” Aziraphale said nervously. Crowley nodded and plunged the shovel into the dirt. He dug a hole quickly and expertly. Aziraphale went over to the begonias and gingerly took one out of its pot, plopping it down into the hole. Crowley shoveled the dirt back in and tamped it down. “Okay, I think I have it. Just don’t laugh if my hole isn’t as neat as yours.”

‘Thought you loved my hole, Angel.’ Crowley said, a wicked grin on his face. Aziraphale threw a handful of dirt at him. Crowley dodged, laughing in his silent way.

“Foul fiend.” Aziraphale worked the shovel into the dirt. His hole wasn’t as neat as Crowley’s when it was done, but it was serviceable. “I much prefer your hole to this one, my pet. Much neater and tighter.” Crowley went red. He put a begonia into the hole Aziraphale had dug. “Oooh, tight fit. You’re going to have to really work those fingers to make it fit.” Crowley somehow went even redder. “I rather enjoy seeing your fingers in my hole.”

‘Angel...’ Crowley’s face was a picture. Aziraphale laughed.

“Poor sweet thing. Am I arousing or embarrassing you?” Crowley held up a finger. “Ah. Well, Why don’t we do something about that?” Aziraphale moved to a sitting position, legs straight out. “Come sit in Master’s lap, pet.” Crowley climbed into his lap. Aziraphale removed his gloves, setting them aside, then began to stroke Crowley through his trousers. “Already so eager for me, my perfect little slut. Kiss Master.” Whining, Crowley obeyed. Aziraphale kissed back, sucking on Crowley’s lower lip. “I want you to guide me, my pet. Show Master what to do.”

Crowley whimpered and undid his trousers, placing Aziraphale’s hand on his hard cock.

“You want me to just keep my hand still?” Crowley shook his head. “Well, you need to show me, my love. Show me what you want.” Aziraphale whispered darkly.

Crowley placed his hand over Aziraphale’s and began guiding him over his cock, stroking it in time with the blond. “Good little pet.” Crowley gasped and began stroking harder, pressing his hand into Aziraphale’s. “That’s my good boy, show Master how to pleasure you, such a sweet, darling slut, my gorgeous Anthony, my love, fuck yourself on our hands, so good for Master.”

Crowley fucked himself on their combined fists, his hand moving faster and faster. Aziraphale kept pace easily, whispering obscene praise in his ear that made the redhead pant with lust. He came hard, his head thrown back in ecstasy and his body shaking.

Aziraphale stroked his sweat damp hair and kissed him on the side of the head. “Such a good boy. Do you feel better now, my sweet pet?”

Crowley nodded, panting.

“Good. Do you want to finish planting the begonias now?” Crowley giggled.

‘Yeah.’

They were covered in dirt and sweat by the time they were done. Aziraphale was aching in places he didn’t know could ache, sweat was running down his back in rivers, and he was coated in dirt. And he had never felt better. “Is your mother going to let us back in the house like this?”

‘Nope. Got a wash station over here.’ Crowley indicated for Aziraphale to follow. ‘There it is.’

“My dear, that is a hose.”

Crowley stripped off his dirt and sweat soaked shirt, then took off his trainers, socks, and trousers. ‘Strip off, Angel.’ Aziraphale struggled out of his clothes. Crowley went over to the faucet and turned it on, then picked up the hose and sent a spray of water right to Aziraphale’s chest.

“Holy fuck that’s cold!” Aziraphale leaped back. Grinning, Crowley sprayed him again. “Crowley!”

‘Sorry. Here, rinse yourself off.’ Crowley handed Aziraphale the hose and sauntered over to another small shed. Aziraphale watched him walk, his ass swaying, and whistled. Crowley did a shimmy, and Aziraphale laughed before taking a deep breath and letting the cold water hit his skin. It wasn’t so bad like this, he thought. He rinsed his hair, shaking the excess water out of his eyes.

Crowley emerged from the shed with two old but very serviceable towels. He stopped dead at the sight of Aziraphale, water running down his naked body. He dropped the towels and came over, sinking to his knees in front of his master.

Aziraphale smiled down at his pet. “What do you want, sweet?” Crowley leaned forward and nosed at his cock, whining high in his throat. “I don’t know, pet. You’re still very dirty. Will you let Master clean you?” Crowley nodded, whining. “I tell you what, pet. I’m going to hose you off. I want you to make me come by the time I’ve finished. Understand?” Crowley groaned. “Good slut. Start sucking.”

Crowley took Aziraphale down to the hilt and began sucking, eyes closed against the water. Aziraphale sighed out his name and started rinsing him off, starting with his hair. The cold water ran down Crowley’s chest and back, leaving clean tracks where it washed away the dirt. Aziraphale moved the hose so it was in between them, rinsing Crowley’s chest. “You’re doing so well, my pet. So well for Master. Suck harder.” Crowley hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard. Aziraphale groaned, and the hose shuddered in his grip. “Touch yourself, my pet.” Crowley grasped his cock and began stroking in time with Aziraphale’s thrusts into his mouth. He could feel the water running down his back, and he increased his pace. Aziraphale howled, his hips bucking.

Aziraphale gave one final thrust and came down his throat. Crowley’s cock jerked, and he came over his fist. Some splattered onto the ground. Crowley fell back, panting. Aziraphale stroked his cheek. “Such a good boy.” Crowley purred happily and nuzzled his hand, then lifted up his own come soaked one, gazing up at Aziraphale with pleading eyes. Aziraphale knelt in front of him and sucked his hand clean one finger at a time, his eyes never leaving Crowley’s. “I love the taste of you, my darling.”

Crowley shivered. ‘Fuck me.’ Aziraphale pushed him down onto the grass.

“Whatever my pet wishes. Have you wanted this, pet? For me to fuck you in a garden?”

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale slid his hand under the artist’s ass, pushing. Crowley bent his knees, and Aziraphale traced his hole with a wet finger. “Always so eager, my sweet slut.” He pushed one finger in, then a second, and Crowley howled, rutting against him. Aziraphale worked his fingers for a few moments, relishing in the sounds his pet was making. His cock was throbbing with the need to be inside Crowley’s tight heat. He pressed his tip against Crowley’s hole, and his dear little pet pushed forward, whimpering. Aziraphale slid in, loving as always how wonderfully tight he was.

Aziraphale fucked him hard, his hands digging into the grass as he pounded into Crowley’s perfection. Crowley wrapped his long legs around Aziraphale and matched him thrust for thrust.

They both came at almost the exact same moment, their cries mingling. Aziraphale glanced down at their come spattered bodies. “I think we may need the hose again.”

Crowley giggled for almost five minutes.

They rinsed off again, wrapped the towels around themselves, and carried their dirty clothes to the back porch. Crowley led the way to the laundry, pointing to a hamper. ‘Put the clothes in there. Mum will get them.’ Aziraphale deposited his dirty clothes in the hamper.

“I have to say, that was one of the best mornings I’ve ever had. I feel...accomplished.”

‘Good. Day’s not over yet. What say we have a picnic at the lake? It won’t be as fancy as the one we had at the park.’

Aziraphale kissed him. “I would love to have a picnic. Do you have a basket?”

‘Got an old garden basket that would work, and we can go to Sammy’s and get stuff to go.’

“That sounds lovely. Though we should probably get dressed first.” Crowley laughed in agreement.

The makeshift picnic basket was in decent shape, and Liliana contributed an old sheet for the blanket. “Have fun!” She said as she shooed them out the door.

Sammy’s was bustling, and they waited for about ten minutes before someone was able to serve them. They ordered sandwiches, crisps, and soda to go. The food was packed in neat cartons that had the restaurant’s name on them. The sodas were simply in to go cups. Aziraphale and Crowley carried them out and packed everything in the basket. Crowley picked it up, and they walked to the lake.

They chose a spot on the far side of the lake, just under a tree. Crowley spread out the blanket and buried the edges in the dirt before sitting down. Aziraphale sat, and Crowley scooted so he could place his head on the blond’s shoulder. Aziraphale stroked his hair then took out the sodas and sandwiches. “You had the ham and cheese, right?” Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale handed him a carton. “And the root beer?” Another nod. Aziraphale took a sip from one of the cups. “Coke, that’s mine. So this is yours.” He handed Crowley his soda, then pulled his own sandwich(roast beef on rye) out of the basket. “Do you want your crisps now?” Crowley’s hand shot out. Aziraphale pulled out a bag of crisps and passed them over to Crowley. He placed his own bag on the blanket next to him. “Napkins...aha.” He passed Crowley a napkin.

They ate and drank in comfortable silence. Once they were done, Crowley moved so his head was in Aziraphale’s lap. ‘Read to me.’

“What?”

Crowley looked up at him. ‘I know you packed a book. I want you to read to me.’

Aziraphale stroked his hair. “You know me far too well, Pet.” He pulled a book out of the bottom of the basket and opened it to the first page. “There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.”

Crowley closed his eyes, listening to the soothing sound of his master’s voice. It was such a lovely day, just warm enough to make a person feel good. The dragonflies were humming overhead, and the lake lapped against the shore. Aziraphale was stroking his hair softly and gently.

Crowley fell asleep. Aziraphale looked down at him and softly closed the book, then leaned against the trunk and allowed himself to drift off as well.


	11. Farewell and Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys return home, but an unwelcome visitor is waiting at the gallery. Luckily, Aziraphale has a cunning plan.

Chapter Eleven: Farewell and Family

Aziraphale checked his suitcase for the tenth time. “Shirts, trousers, did I remember my boxers?” Crowley smiled self indulgently and went over to the bed. He pushed the tartan case closed, holding it down so Aziraphale couldn’t open it back up. “I am being a bit silly, aren’t I?” Crowley gave him a look that clearly said “Ya think?” Aziraphale zipped the suitcase closed. “Well, if I did leave anything behind I’m sure your mother would send it via post.” Crowley laughed. “Are you all packed, Fire?”

Crowley pointed to his suitcase standing against the door. ‘I’ve got everything. Mum’s waiting to say goodbye.’ Aziraphale hoisted his suitcase off the bed and they started down the corridor when Crowley stopped and stared at him ‘Fire?’

Aziraphale tugged on Crowley’s braid. “For your hair, pet. Do you not like the nickname?” Crowley’s bashful look said it all. Aziraphale tugged him close and pecked him on the nose, laughing as Crowley’s brow furrowed in a way that had no right to be as utterly adorable as it was. “My fiery pet.” Crowley beamed.

Liliana was not the sort of woman who went in for long goodbyes. She gave Aziraphale a hug and told him he could consider himself part of the family now. Aziraphale gave her his card and told her that if she wished to come back to the gallery with her friends, he would make arrangements so that they would not have to pay admission. Liliana pulled Crowley to one side while Aziraphale put the suitcases in the Uber Crowley had called. “Don’t you lose him, Anthony. A man like that, he only comes around once.”

‘I have no intention of losing him. I love him too damn much. Thanks for having us, Mum. Love you.’ Crowley gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Liliana kissed back.

“Oh, go on. You know it’s no trouble. But I expect to see you and your man again soon.” Crowley nodded. “Now go on, before you’re late for the train.”

They fortunately arrived at the station right on time, and made it to their private car without any trouble. Aziraphale sank into the soft cushions on the seat and kicked off his shoes. Crowley did the same, then sprawled next to him, his head in his angel’s lap. Aziraphale stroked his hair absently. ‘Master? What’s wrong?’

Aziraphale sighed heavily. “You’ll think me silly, but..for a moment, when I saw you and Liliana saying goodbye, I got...jealous.”

Crowley sat up and stared at him. ‘Why?’

Aziraphale blinked back tears. “Because...I can never have that. God knows you’ve heard me bad mouth my family multiple times, and god knows they deserve it, but… have I told you about the times I tried reconciling with them?” Shocked, Crowley shook his head. “Yeah. First time was right after I’d left. Well, about two months. It was Mother’s birthday, and I’d always bought her a book. Usually a first edition of something. Well, that year I found a first edition Oscar Wilde, our favorite author.”

Crowley giggled. ‘Did your Mum know he was gay?’

“No, she just loved his writing. So I of course didn’t want to trust such a priceless artifact to the post, so I squared my shoulders, as the saying goes, and drove to the manor.” Aziraphale took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. “They wouldn’t...wouldn’t even let me in. One of the servants took the book. He came back not five minutes later with the book in his hand. I’ll never forget what he said. He informed me that Mother had said that she had no son named Aziraphale, and she was not in the habit of accepting presents from people she did not know.”

Crowley pulled the silently crying angel into a bone crushing hug, wrapping himself around the blond. Aziraphale pressed his face into Crowley’s hair, breathing in the apple scent of the shampoo he had used that morning. “I tried one more time after that. Went back to the manor and bulled my way in. Mother and Father didn’t even look at me when I spoke to them. I must have ranted for hours before I realized that they were never going to listen, that as far as they were concerned I was persona non grata. I left, went to a bar and got spectacularly drunk. But after that, I never tried reconciliation again.”

‘What about your brothers?’

“Oh, Sandy only paid attention to me when he and Gabriel were bullying me, so it was rather a blessing to be ignored by him. Same with Gabriel. At least until the fucker called a few months ago trying to buy the gallery.” Crowley made a face.

‘Ugh, I can’t imagine how awful the gallery would be if Gabriel bought it. From what you’ve told me of him, he’s a real wankstain.’

Aziraphale cackled. “That he is, Fire. He’s also incredibly boring.” Crowley hissed laughter. “I, on the other hand...” Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s face. “Am I boring, pet?” Crowley shook his head. “That’s all down to you, you know. You ignite me in ways no one ever has, and you’re so very eager to try new things, aren’t you, Fire?” Crowley nodded. “I want to suck you, my gorgeous pet. And I want you to suck me.” Crowley whined and pawed Aziraphale’s cock through his trousers. “Patience, Pet. Haste makes waste.” Crowley whined harder. Aziraphale chuckled and kissed him sweet and slow, licking into his mouth. “Go close the curtains, Pet. Then come back here and I’ll give you further instructions.” Crowley jumped up and pulled the curtains closed, then came back over to Aziraphale. The blond leaned back, his gaze raking up and down Crowley. “Take your clothes off, but do it slowly. I want to savor this moment.” Crowley’s fingers went to his shirt, and he began unbuttoning it as slowly as he could. Aziraphale licked his lips and began stroking himself through his trousers.

Crowley took his time shrugging out of his shirt, dropping it on the floor before starting in on his trousers. He unzipped at a snail’s pace, his eyes never leaving Aziraphale. The blond unzipped his own trousers, sighing as his hard cock came free. He pressed his thumb on the tip, a strangled moan coming from his lips. “Keep going.” Crowley peeled himself out of his tight trousers. Aziraphale’s mouth watered at the sight of his pet, naked and hard. “Come here.” Crowley came over, and Aziraphale yanked him into his lap and sucked the breath from his mouth. “Lie down on the bench.” Crowley whined in happiness and obeyed.

‘Aren’t you going to get undressed?’

Aziraphale stroked the hollow of his throat. “Pet, I don’t need to be undressed to suck your cock. You on the other hand, look so very beautiful when you’re naked and writhing beneath me. You’re going to suck me good, aren’t you, my sweet slut?” Crowley hissed. “Good.”

Aziraphale kissed him, then stood and positioned himself so his cock was dangling above Crowley’s mouth and Crowley’s cock was level with his own. His sweet slut had such a delicious cock, Aziraphale thought. He pressed his own cock to Crowley’s lips, smiling to himself when his good little pet took him down to the hilt, sucking hard. Aziraphale planted a searing kiss to Crowley’s cock before swallowing him down. Crowley’s body jerked, and Aziraphale could feel him sucking harder.

Aziraphale bit down on Crowley’s cock, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to feel. Crowley’s body shuddered, and Aziraphale could feel the moan Crowley made around his own cock, the vibrations sending shivers up his spine. He stroked Crowley’s cleft with one finger, and the artist jerked. Smirking to himself, Aziraphale slid one finger inside the tight hole, bending it. Crowley screamed around his cock. Aziraphale slid in another finger and sucked harder. Crowley bucked up into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat. The blond grinned to himself and began fucking into Crowley’s throat.

They came within seconds of each other. Aziraphale swallowed every drop of his love’s sweet seed, licking up what his mouth missed. Crowley scrambled into an upright position, grinding on Aziraphale’s lap, a low, steady whine in his throat. “Do you want me to fuck you, Pet?” Crowley keened in need. Aziraphale spread his legs open and stroked his cleft with two fingers. “Do you want me to reward you with my cock, my sweet slut?” Crowley was nearly sobbing. He nodded. Aziraphale pulled him down.

Crowley gasped in pleasure as the blond’s cock entered him, filling him in the most wonderful of ways. Fuck, he loved his master so fucking much. He bit back a howl as Aziraphale sank his teeth into his throat.

“Love you so much, my perfect pet, my fiery one, my artist, my gorgeous slut, my demon, my angel, fucking love you...” Aziraphale growled as he fucked into him. He stroked Crowley’s cock. “When you come, make sure it’s on you. If you get come on my shirt, I will be most upset, do you understand?” Crowley whined and increased his pace, his hips swiveling as he took Aziraphale in deeper.

Crowley came hard, a silent scream of release coming from his mouth. Come splattered onto his chest and stomach. Aziraphale came deep inside him seconds later. “Good boy. There’s some wipes in my bag. Get them and clean yourself up, then get dressed.” Crowley retrieved the wipes, handing some to Aziraphale so he could clean himself up. Aziraphale tucked his cock away and watched Crowley dress. “Leave your shirt open.” Crowley obeyed, then came over and laid back down with his head in Aziraphale’s lap.

‘Won’t whoever cleans the car notice the wipes in the garbage?’

Aziraphale chuckled. “Pet, we are far from the first people to ever fuck on a train. I’m sure it won’t faze them.”

(He turned out to be right. The cleaner was just grateful they hadn’t gotten their...activities splashed all over the walls and benches)

“Oh, it feels so good to be home!” Aziraphale said as they entered the flat. Crowley set his suitcase down and went to check on his plants. Aziraphale had asked their next door neighbor to water them. Much to Crowley’s relief, they were all in great shape. He gave his violets a bit of water, stroking their leaves. The fern had a few dead leaves, and he pulled those, placing them in the composting pot. Next he went to his studio. The painting he was working on for the gallery was under a sheet. Crowley pulled the sheet off, examining it with his artist’s eye. It needed a bit more blue. The painting depicted the night sky with constellations clearly visible. Crowley checked his inventory. All in order. He replaced the sheet and headed back out.

Aziraphale was in the living room, phone in hand, pacing back and forth. “What do you mean he’s refusing to leave?! Call the bloody police, have him escorted out for trespassing! Oh, for fuck’s sake! Fine. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He hung up. “FUCKING CHRIST ON A FUCKING POGO STICK!”

‘Everything okay?’ Crowley asked. Aziraphale glared at him.

“My fucking brother decided to fucking show up at my fucking gallery because apparently he ‘wants to come to a deal’ and I don’t want to fucking deal with him but I have to and I wish to fuck he would leave me alone.”

Crowley frowned in sympathy. He wanted to help his master, but he wasn’t sure...wait.

Aziraphale blinked at the demonic grin on Crowley’s face. “What’s that for?”

‘Your brother is really conservative, right?’ Aziraphale nodded, still a bit confused. ‘That probably translates into sex as well.’

Aziraphale’s face lit up with the same demonic glee. “Oh, you are a clever one, Pet. I think we need to give my brother a show he’ll never forget. Go put on the sexiest outfit you have.” Crowley dashed into the bedroom and emerged moments later wearing a skin tight, blood red shirt and the tightest pair of trousers he had. Aziraphale noted that he was holding a belt in one hand. “What’s that for?”

‘Collar. Adds to the picture.’

Aziraphale’s cock twitched at the idea of Crowley wearing a collar. “Oh.” Crowley handed him the belt. Aziraphale took it with shaking hands and looped it around Crowley’s neck, buckling it. The sight made his knees go weak.

“Jesus fuck, pet, you look so fucking hot like that.” Aziraphale growled. Crowley whined. “Now, let’s go scare my brother.” Crowley grinned. “Wait, we need one more thing.” Aziraphale went into the bedroom and returned with one of their Shibari ropes. “Can’t have a collar without a leash.”

Newt nearly hugged Aziraphale from relief when they arrived at the gallery. “Oh thank goodness you’re here, he’s in your office!” Aziraphale nodded curtly and tugged on Crowley’s ‘leash’. “Come along, Pet.” Crowley obediently trailed after, his head down.

Aziraphale paused in front of his office and took a deep breath before pushing it open and leading Crowley inside. He closed the door, studiously ignoring the other man in the room. “You know what to do, Pet. I was nice enough to let you walk here.” Crowley got down on his knees, rubbing against Aziraphale’s leg. “Good dog. Come along.” Aziraphale tugged on the leash, and Crowley crawled along with him. Aziraphale sat at his desk, still ignoring Gabriel, who was watching the whole exchange in shocked horror. “On the floor where you belong, there’s a good doggy.” Crowley sank to the floor, pressing himself against Aziraphale’s legs and gazing up at him in rapturous devotion. Aziraphale stroked him. “Good boy.” He looked up, pretending to notice Gabriel for the first time. “Oh. Gabriel. When did you get here?”

“I’ve been waiting nearly half an hour. What...is...going on?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” Aziraphale asked, wide eyed innocence on his face. At the same time, he tugged on Crowley’s leash. “You may put your head in my lap if you wish, Pet.” Crowley sighed and placed his head in Aziraphale’s lap, stroking his leg. “Good dog.” He addressed Gabriel. “I thought I made it clear that I had no intention of selling?”

Gabriel’s eyes were wide as saucers. “Aziraphale. You have a man on a leash.”

“Well, of course I do. This is my pet. Crowley, this is Gabriel.” Crowley hissed vehemently at him. Aziraphale tugged sharply on the leash. “Now, none of that. Be good, or you won’t get tied up and fucked tonight.” Crowley pouted and rubbed his head against Aziraphale’s stomach. “He’s such a good boy. Listens so well. My beautiful silent one.”

Gabriel looked horrified and disgusted. “God, you’re even more of a deviant than our parents thought.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Indeed. Now, you can of course threaten to go to the papers and expose me unless I sell to you, but the fact of the matter is, I own this building. Free and clear. It is making me money. I have quite a few very influential friends, thanks to fundraisers that I have hosted here. I know a number of scrupulous barristers and judges that would back me up should you entertain the foolish notion of taking me to court. The only reason you want this gallery is because of the location. You have no interest in keeping it as it is. I will not sell to you. So I am saying this with the greatest possible affection. Get the fuck off my property or I will call the police, and if you ever try contacting me again about selling I will have you prosecuted for harassment.”

Gabriel stood. “I wouldn’t want to buy something from a freak like you anyway. You’re fucking disgusting.”

Aziraphale beamed. “I try. Now, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” Gabriel stormed out, and Aziraphale burst into laughter. “We did it! Oh, pet, you are wonderful.”

Crowley rumbled happily. ‘Master? Could...I get a collar for real?’ Aziraphale went stiff, then yanked Crowley into his lap and kissed him with animal passion.

“Oh, fuck yes...”

“Zira, **darling!** ” Sam cried out when Aziraphale came into his shop followed by his gorgeous red head. “So wonderful to see you. What are we in the market for today, loves? Do you need more rope? Some leather cuffs? I know Tony so loved those cuffs. Oh, I just got in a stock of bento balls.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “We’re here for a collar. And a leash.” 

Sam’s eyes lit up. “ Of course! Follow me, dears.” He led them to the back of the shop, to a wall lined with collars of all shapes and sizes. “I can customize whichever one you pick, and they all have padding so they won’t chafe. The sizing chart is right there.” He pointed to a laminated piece of paper tacked to the wall. “Did you have a specific type in mind?” 

Crowley ran his hands along the collars. Some had sharp studs, and he dismissed those. He came to a halt in front of a collar that was deep blue in color with crystals embedded in it. Smiling, he took it off its hanger and brought it over to Aziraphale. ‘This one.’ The collar was about the width of a narrow belt. 

Samuel took the collar and placed it around Crowley’s neck. “Excellent. It’s a perfect fit. Now, would you like anything on it?”

“Angel’s Pet.” Aziraphale said. Crowley nodded in agreement. 

“Very well, I’ll go get that done. The leash for this is that black one.” Sam pointed to it, and Aziraphale picked it up. 

“Darling, while we’re here, is there anything else you wanted?”

‘Some more edible paint?’ 

Aziraphale laughed. He had bought the paint on a whim during his last shopping trip, and Crowley loved it. They had had quite a few very nice ‘painting’ sessions. “Very well. Go and grab some. Oh, and get the bento balls. I haven’t had the chance to use those on you yet.” Crowley whimpered and got a box. “ Crowley, would you like a harness?” Aziraphale asked, examining the row in front of him. “Oh, I can hook this one up to my rig! And look, it’s got loops for me to put ropes through. Oh, this is very nice.” He plucked it off the shelf and carried it up front. 

Sam had finished with the collar. “What do you think?” Aziraphale examined the beautiful script. 

“Lovely.” 

‘Master, can I wear it out of the store?’ Crowley asked, an eager expression on his face. Aziraphale placed it around his neck. Crowley wiggled in glee. ‘Thank you Master!’ 

Later that night, Aziraphale hooked Crowley up to the harness, roped him up in intricate knots, and coaxed eight cataclysmic orgasms from him. 

Crowley pressed himself to Aziraphale’s side, humming in happiness. ‘I love you, Master.’ 

“As do I love you, my darling pet.” 


	12. Cookies and Camping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has a surprise for Aziraphale, and Newt invites them along for a camping weekend.

Chapter Twelve: Cookies and Camping

Crowley read the paper for the seventh time, making sure that he had every single ingredient before he got started. Flour. Check. Eggs. Check. Sugar(both white and brown). Check. An obscene amount of chocolate chips. Double check. He lined everything up neatly on the counter and got out two mixing bowls, one for the wet ingredients and one for the dry. Oh. Baking soda! He retrieved it from the pantry, along with the salt, then went into the fridge and got out the milk and butter.

While it was true that Aziraphale tended to eat fancy pastries, the gallery owner had confessed to Crowley that he had a fondness for chocolate chip cookies. When asked why he never purchased any from the many pastry and bakery shops he frequented, he would lament about their lack of chips. And while Aziraphale could cook like a Michelin star chef, any attempt at baking turned into a disaster of comedic proportions. So while Aziraphale was at work, Crowley had gone out and purchased all the ingredients needed for chocolate chip cookies.

He sifted the flour, baking soda, and salt together, adding in a dash of cinnamon for good measure. He grabbed the whisk he had purchased(Aziraphale had next to no baking equipment, so Crowley had had to buy that too) and whisked the ingredients together, then used the newly purchased hand mixer to cream together the butter and sugar, adding in some fresh vanilla that he had bought at a specialty store. Once mixed, he added the eggs, blending them into the dough.

Now came the final bit. He slowly added the wet ingredients to the dry, blending them into a smooth consistency. He then grabbed double handfuls of chocolate chips(semi sweet, dark, and milk) and folded them into the batter before covering it with cling film and setting the dough in the fridge to cool so it would keep its shape better when he formed it into cookies.

He washed up and went to the studio, where he added a bit more blue to his constellations painting. He was already planning his next painting, and had several sketches laying about. It was going to be different from his others in that it was going to depict a scene on earth, of two people looking up at the sky as a meteor shower streaked overhead. Crowley had already sketched the people, and it was no coincidence they strongly resembled him and Aziraphale. He was going to put this one on one of his bigger canvases, and he wanted the shower to be larger than life.

Crowley refined his sketch then went back out to the kitchen and pulled the dough out of the fridge, poking it with his finger. Perfect. He formed the dough into balls and placed them on a parchment lined sheet, pressing down just enough so they would be cookie shaped. He then put them in the oven and set the timer before going into the living room and sitting on the sofa.

Crowley’s mobile was on the coffee table and he swiped it open, pulling up Aziraphale’s number.

Pet: Are you busy Master?

Master: No, darling. In fact it’s slow here. Why?

Pet: Wanted to come by and see you. OK?

Master: Always, my dearest love. When?

Pet: About an hour? I’ve got a few things to do.

Master: Sounds perfect, Fire. See you then.

Pet: I love you.

Master: I love you too.

Crowley smiled to himself. He scrolled through the news, then checked his Twitter and Facebook before going to check on the cookies.

They were done to perfection. Crowley slid them onto a cooling rack then went into his studio and found a clean tin that had once held a bunch of pencils. He carried it to the kitchen and lined it with parchment, then placed the cookies inside. (He tested one to make sure it was good. It was.) Whistling, he carried the tin out to the Bentley. He had one more stop to make before the gallery.

Aziraphale looked at the clock, then at his computer. Good Someone, but this day was going slow. His only highlight was that his dear little pet was coming by. Crowley had texted him a few minutes ago saying he was on the way, that he had to stop somewhere and buy something. He hadn’t told Aziraphale what, only saying that it was a surprise.

Two raps on his office door made him look away from the computer with a wide smile. “It’s open, darling.” Crowley came in, a large paper bag in one hand. He set the bag on the desk and slid into Aziraphale’s lap, kissing him. “Hello, my sweet. What’s in the bag?”

Crowley beamed. ‘Surprise for you.’ He pulled out the tin, pressing it into Aziraphale’s hands. ‘Open.’

Aziraphale pried off the lid and gasped aloud. “Oh! Crowley, they look delicious! Wherever did you get them?” Crowley puffed out his chest with pride.

‘Made ‘em.’

Aziraphale gaped at him. “You made these? Darling, they look spectacular! I’m going to try one right now. If only I had some milk.” His jaw dropped when Crowley reached into the bag and pulled out two pints of milk.

‘Stopped at the grocers. Can’t have cookies without milk.’ He handed Aziraphale a pint, then watched in trepidation as the blond picked out a cookie and took a bite. ‘So?’

“Oh, my pet, these are Heavenly! So wonderfully soft and chewy, and just the right amount of chips. I had no idea you were this good at baking!”

Crowley blushed. ‘M not. This was my first attempt.’

“Well, then you are a prodigy! These are amazing.” Aziraphale selected another cookie and pressed it to Crowley’s lips. “Open’” Crowley opened his mouth and bit down on the cookie, chewing. He had done a really good job, he thought. Aziraphale kissed him. “You taste of chocolate, my sweet.”

‘You too.’

They ate a few more cookies(and Aziraphale gave one to Newt when he came in to drop off the post) before Aziraphale made the executive decision to leave the office early. “Nothing is going on. I’m all caught up on inventory, the books are balanced, there’s no tour groups, and I am bored out of my skull. Newt can handle anything that comes up.”

Newt agreed to hold down the fort, then turned to Crowley. “Ana says to tell you hi.”

‘How’s things going with you two?’

Newt grinned. “Awesome. We’re going camping this weekend. You can come along, if you like.”

Aziraphale looked interested. “Could be fun. What do you think, Crowley?”

‘Yeah. Are you going tent camping or renting a cabin somewhere?’

Newt tossed a circular into the trash. “Tent. Ana used to do it all the time when she lived in the States. She’s got this enormous tent. More than big enough for four.”

Aziraphale grinned wickedly. “Crowley and I would prefer our own tent.” Newt looked puzzled, then blushed.

“Oh. Right. Well, I’m sure Ana’s got one, along with some extra sleeping bags.”

Crowley gave him a thumbs up, then tugged insistently on Aziraphale’s sleeve. ‘Come on.’ Aziraphale allowed himself to be led outside. ‘You really want to go camping?’

“Yes. I’m not a stranger to the outdoors, Crowley. In fact, I spent a gap year backpacking across Europe.” Aziraphale said as they arrived at the Bentley.

Crowley slid into the driver seat, and Aziraphale got into the passenger side. ‘We couldn’t afford vacations, not really. Once in a while we’d go spend the day at the sea side, but that was all dependent on how much Dad had made. My summer holidays were spent at home, running around town and causing mischief.’

“You? Cause mischief? I can’t believe that.” Aziraphale said with amusement. Crowley stuck his tongue out.

‘It was never anything major. I did almost fall in with a bad crowd when I was in secondary, but Mum put paid to that real quick. She’s terrifying when she’s mad.’

“Then I’m very grateful I’ve yet to see her truly angry.”

‘Yeah. So what about you? What sort of rich people holidays did you go on?’

Aziraphale stared out the window for a few moments before answering. “Very structured ones. During summer holidays we’d go to a very exclusive resort by the sea side. Every moment was dictated, and if we deviated from the schedule one bit, Mother and Father would get very upset. We’d go to France in the fall and Italy in the winter, and again, the vacation was scheduled down to the precise second. Though there was one year where I threw everything into chaos by getting arrested.”

Crowley nearly ran the car onto the kerb. ‘You WOT?’

Aziraphale blushed, embarrassed.. “Oh yes. It was in France, right before..well, I was still a member of the family, let’s leave it at that. I’d gone ahead of everyone to see if I could find a patisserie. I wasn’t having much luck, as my French then could best be described as ‘non existent’ but I was determined. I turn the corner and run smack dab into a protest. I’ve no idea what they were protesting, but the crowd was so large I couldn’t go around them without doubling back, and I had no intention of doing that. So I found myself being swept along. All of a sudden, they scatter. Turns out the police had arrived. I tried to tell the officers that I was just an innocent bystander, but either they refused to believe me or they didn’t understand me. Long story short, I got carted off to jail.”

Crowley bit his lip hard to keep from laughing. ‘Who bailed you out?’

“My father. He gave me a blistering lecture about how ashamed he was, and how if I ever pulled a stunt like that again I would never be allowed on another holiday. Well, as it turned out, he was right in a sort of way. I came out a few months later and got disowned, so I never did go on another holiday with them.”

Crowley pulled into the Bentley’s spot in the car park. They got out and headed up to Aziraphale’s flat. Crowley went into the bedroom, and Aziraphale sank onto the sofa and kicked off his shoes, sighing in relief. “Darling, you have no idea how good it feels to be...” his words trailed off as Crowley came out of the bedroom.

The artist had shed his clothes, leaving him in nothing but a pair of midnight blue panties. He had on bright red lipstick and his hair was free from its confines, flowing down to his waist. But the thing that made Aziraphale’s cock leap to attention was that Crowley was wearing his collar and held his leash in one slender hand. He came over and sank to his knees in front of the blond, handing him the leash. Aziraphale took it, tugging. Crowley whined. “Does my pet wish to pleasure me?” A nod. “You want to mark my cock, stain it with your lipstick?” A high, eager whine. Aziraphale wrapped the leash around one hand and Crowley’s hair in the other. “Very well, pet. But. You are not allowed to use your hands.”

Crowley scooted closer so he could take the zipper of Aziraphale’s trousers between his teeth. He tugged it down, whining in happiness when Aziraphale tugged on his leash. He kissed the tip of his master’s cock, relishing in his taste. Aziraphale gasped and tugged on his hair. “Good boy. Keep going.” Whimpering, Crowley obeyed, kissing and licking every bit of Aziraphale’s cock, leaving red marks from his lipstick everywhere. Aziraphale moaned his name and pulled on the leash, guiding him down. Crowley took him down to the hilt, then lifted his hands so Aziraphale could see them.

‘Control me.’ Aziraphale looked puzzled for half a second before a wicked grin lit up his face. He tugged sharply on Crowley’s leash, pulling his head up, then tugged downward. Crowley sobbed in ecstasy, sucking as his master controlled his movements. Aziraphale went at a slow, almost painful pace before tugging faster and harder. Crowley was floating, deep into subspace. He wanted Aziraphale to pull his hair, too. Whining, he pressed down on the hand tangled in his hair. Aziraphale yanked on it, just hard enough to sting, and Crowley howled around his cock and sucked harder.

His own cock was aching with need, and he knew that his panties were soaked, but he didn’t dare to touch himself. Not without Master’s permission. He needed to make Master come, because then he would be rewarded and allowed to come himself. Crowley could tell Master was close by the sounds he was making. He sucked once more, and Master screamed his name and emptied his cock down Crowley’s throat.

Crowley licked him clean, then looked up at him, a pleading expression on his face. Master placed his fingers under Crowley’s chin and kissed him filthily. “Such a good boy. Do you want your reward, my sweet slut?” Crowley nodded. “Go into the bedroom and pick out the toys you want.”

Crowley gulped in desire and raced into the bedroom. He went to their toy closet and selected a pair of leather handcuffs, a large vibrator, and a bottle of strawberry flavored lube. He also selected his favorite blindfold. He lined everything up neatly on the bench at the foot of the bed and then climbed onto the mattress, settling into a kneeling position, his head down and his hands behind his back, supplicant.

Aziraphale strolled into the bedroom. He examined the items with an approving eye, then picked up the cuffs. “Do you want me to rig you up, love? Or do you want to be cuffed to the headboard?”

‘Headboard, if it pleases you, Master.’

Aziraphale came forward and stroked his hair. “It pleases me to please you, my sweet. If you want the headboard, then the headboard it will be. Lie back for me, Fire.” Crowley lay back, and Aziraphale expertly cuffed him to the wrought iron headboard. “How’s the tightness, love?” Crowley tugged and beamed. “Lovely. Lift your head so I can put the blindfold on.” Crowley lifted his head, and Aziraphale blindfolded him. “So perfect. Now, what shall I do with this?” He picked up the vibrator and turned it to its lowest setting, pressing it against Crowley’s pantie clad cock. Crowley howled. Aziraphale removed the vibrator and Crowley whined. “Patience, my pet.”

Aziraphale slowly removed Crowley’s panties before pushing his legs open. “Are you listening, Pet?” Crowley nodded. “Good. You are to keep your legs still while I am using you for my pleasure. If you move them, I will tie them to the bed and leave you unsatisfied. Is that clear?” Crowley nodded rapidly. “Good little slut.” Aziraphale said before licking the tip of Crowley’s leaking cock. Crowley trembled but stayed still. Aziraphale smirked and touched the tip of the vibrator to Crowley’s balls. The artist yelped in pleasure. “So good for me, Crowley. You’re doing so beautifully, suffering so wonderfully.” Aziraphale whispered. “You can hold out, can’t you, darling? You can let Master bring you to the brink, over and over, can’t you?” Crowley keened and nodded. Aziraphale took his cock in a few inches and sucked gently, running the vibrator up and down his shaft, barely touching the hard flesh. Crowley moaned. “My good boy. My sweet, fiery slut.”

Crowley’s face became soaked with tears of pleasure as Master put him through the most exquisite torture imaginable. His entire body seemed to be on fire, and his cock was so sensitive! God, he needed to come so bad. He concentrated as hard as he could on keeping his legs still. Master was alternating now between his mouth and the vibrator, and Crowley felt as though he was on a precipice, and it would take a microscopic nudge to send him hurtling over the edge.

Aziraphale slicked himself up then slid his hand under Crowley’s ass and lifted him up. He caressed him with one finger as he nibbled and licked his cock. “You’re doing so well, my darling. Suffering so wonderfully. I’m so proud of you.” Crowley sobbed in joy. “I think you’re ready for me.” Crowley whimpered. Aziraphale kissed his cock. “My good boy.” He lined himself up and slid inside with a cry.

Crowley fell off the precipice. When he came to, Aziraphale had uncuffed him and was stroking his hair, whispering in his ear how good he was. Crowley, still deep in subspace, could only press against him with a happy rumble. “Come on darling, let’s get you cleaned up.” Crowley obediently trailed after his master, sitting on the toilet and watching with sleepy, happy eyes as the tub was filled. He climbed in after Aziraphale, settling against his chest. The warm water woke him up a bit, and he nuzzled against Aziraphale, kissing his neck. “You were so good, my darling.”

‘Love you, Master.’ Crowley sighed as Aziraphale poured water over his head before retrieving the shampoo and rubbing it into his scalp. His hair wasn’t dirty, but this was part of the ritual, and Crowley wasn’t going to complain about Master’s hands in his hair.

Aziraphale gently scratched Crowley’s scalp, smiling at the purr of satisfaction. “We should probably go out later and get outdoor appropriate clothing.” Crowley hummed in agreement. “Food, too. Lord only knows what Newt and Anathema are bringing.”

Crowley giggled.

After a very nice bath, they went to the shops and bought camping gear. Crowley texted Anathema for directions to the campsite and was relieved to find it wasn’t too far away. He texted that they would be there tomorrow around lunch time.

The next day, Crowley and Aziraphale packed the Bentley and set out. Aziraphale wiggled in his seat. “You know, I’m actually very excited for this. I checked the weather, and we’ll have clear skies all weekend.” Crowley beamed.

‘We can stay up and watch the stars come out.’

“Oh, what a lovely idea.”

Once they arrived at the campground, it took them another ten minutes to find Ana and Newt. Crowley greeted his friend with a bone crushing hug. Ana hugged back just as tight, then to Aziraphale’s pleased shock pulled him into a hug. “Glad you both could make it. If you need help with the tent, ask Newt. He’s an expert.”

Crowley and Newt went to set up the tents. Ana and Aziraphale sat in camp chairs and watched. “So how do you know Crowley?”

Anathema laughed. “He ran me over.” Aziraphale gaped at her. “Yeah. Though it was kinda my fault, I didn’t have lights on my bike. I came around a bend, and the next thing I know this huge black car is inches from me. I went over the hood and landed in a ditch. The driver comes running over, looking really upset. It took about five minutes of back and forth before I got that he couldn’t talk. He introduced himself and offered to drive me to the hospital to get checked out. I figured he looked harmless enough, so I said sure.” Ana smiled. “He stayed in the waiting room the whole time I was being examined. Turned out I had a few bruised ribs and a sprained wrist. Crowley drove me home. I honestly thought I wouldn’t see him again. A week later he shows up with my bike-all fixed up-and a small painting of a field of flowers. Jasmines. After that, we were pretty much guaranteed to become friends. See, my house is called Jasmine Cottage.”

“All set up!” Newt came over and sat in the chair next to Anathema. Crowley ignored the other chair entirely and settled in front of Aziraphale, laying his head in his lap and giving him puppy dog eyes. Aziraphale chuckled and stroked his hair.

“Ana was just telling me how you two met, darling. Quite the tale.”

‘Her fault she didn’t have lights’. Crowley said, smirking at Ana.

Ana watched them, a small smile on her face. “So...Aziraphale, I gotta say...and I apologize if I offend, but...”

“I don’t exactly look like the Dominant type?” Aziraphale said, grinning. Ana’s jaw dropped.

“How did you know I was going to ask that?”

Aziraphale settled back in the chair and continued to pet Crowley, carding his hands through his hair. “I get it a lot. People who are not...in the scene, as it were, always seem to assume that because I’m..soft looking, that I have a personality to match.”

Crowley giggled. ‘You’re a bastard.’ He whined when Aziraphale tugged sharply on his braid.

“Watch it, pet.” Aziraphale said in a warning tone. Crowley whimpered, nuzzling against Aziraphale. “You going to be good?” Crowley whimpered again. “Very well, I forgive you.”

Ana blinked. “Wow. That was like you became a different person there. And it’s pretty clear Crowley liked it.”

Crowley frowned. ‘No. Love it. Love submitting to Master. You should try it with Newt!’

Anathema grinned. Newt, who was not adept at sign, looked puzzled. “What’d he say?”

Aziraphale smirked. “Crowley suggested that you and Miss Device try a bit of bondage in the bedroom.” Newt went red.

“Oh, um, I dunno, I don’t know if I’d be into that sort of thing, and I wouldn’t want to tie Ana up anyway, and..” he paused as the three of them burst into laughter. “What’s so funny?”

Aziraphale wiped his eyes. “My dear boy, it is painfully obvious that it would be Miss Device doing the tying.”

Ana hiccuped laughter. “Yeah, Newt, I love you, but there’s no way you have the personality to be a Dom.”

Newt gaped at her, wondering if she realized what she had said. “You..you love me?”

Ana froze. Shit. She had wanted to say those words during a special moment, not blurt them out in the middle of a field. “Yeah. I do, Newt. I really do.” Newt squeaked. Ana leaned over and pulled him into a deep kiss.

Aziraphale and Crowley grinned at each other. This was going to be a fun weekend.


	13. S'mores and Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More camping shenanigans, plus a happy surprise for Aziraphale.

Chapter Thirteen: S’mores and Showers

Aziraphale unrolled the over sized sleeping bag he had bought from the camping store onto the floor of the tent he and Crowley were sharing. It took up nearly half the tent. Crowley had already snipped the tags off, and now he placed the giant pillow they had also bought at the head. ‘Looks good to me. Can’t wait to get snuggled up with you.’

Aziraphale kissed his cheek. “Me neither, darling, though snuggling may be all we’ll be able to do. Tents aren’t exactly known for being soundproof.” Crowley giggled. “I’m sure we’ll think of something. Now come on, I believe Anathema said something about going on a hike.”

Crowley wrapped himself around Aziraphale. ‘Could tell them we’re sleepy, then when they’re gone have loud tent sex.’ Aziraphale looked intrigued.

“Would that work, do you think?”

Crowley huffed. ‘Knowing Anathema, no. She’d see through the lie in a heartbeat. So I guess we’re going hiking.’ Crowley gave Aziraphale a squeeze before exiting the tent. Aziraphale sighed and followed after.

Anathema and Newt were waiting for them. Aziraphale was slightly pleased to note that Newt didn’t exactly look enthusiastic about tramping through a field either. Anathema, on the other hand, was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “There you are. Okay, so I figure we’ll walk until lunch time, then rest for a bit before heading back here. I trust you’re wearing the right type of shoes?” Aziraphale and Crowley nodded and showed off their new hiking boots. “Good. Come on, we’re wasting daylight.” She set off at a brisk pace, and the others scrambled to catch up with her.

Aziraphale was reluctant to admit it, but he was starting to enjoy the hike. The day was pleasant, the sky was a lovely, unblemished blue, and best of all, Crowley’s hand was in his. The field, which from the campsite had simply looked like an expanse of bare grass, was in fact dotted with flowers of all colors. Aziraphale gently loosed himself from Crowley’s grip and picked a handful. “Turn towards me, love.” Crowley faced him, and Aziraphale tucked a red flower behind his ear. “There we go.”

Crowley blushed. ‘Pick some more? I want you to braid them into my hair.’

“What a lovely idea.” Aziraphale picked some more flowers, making sure they were absolutely perfect before arranging them into a bouquet for easy carrying. They walked on, fingers entwined.

Ana and Newt were waiting for them a few yards ahead. “We’re gonna rest for a bit.” Ana said, and everyone looked grateful. They sat down, and Crowley sat in front of Aziraphale. The artist loosened his braid, shaking out his hair. Aziraphale combed his fingers through the curls, carefully undoing any knots.

“Anathema, I don’t suppose you have a comb?”

Ana shook her head. “Sorry, left it back at the campsite.”

Aziraphale shrugged. “Oh well, no worries.” He carded his fingers through Crowley’s hair, separating the strands, then picked a blue flower out of the pile and threaded it through the fiery locks as he re-braided Crowley’s hair, repeating the process until most of the flowers were gone. The ones that were left Aziraphale wove together as best as he could to make a lopsided crown before placing it on Crowley’s head. “There. My lovely nymph.” Crowley sighed happily, snuggling up closer to his love.

Something flashed in the corner of his eye and he realized Ana had taken a picture. She was holding her phone out, a soft smile on her face. “That is so romantic.” Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s arms.

“He brings out my romantic side.” Aziraphale nuzzled Crowley’s neck. “I wish I had his talent for art, then I could capture just how ethereally beautiful he looks like this. Like a spirit of the meadow.” Crowley rumbled in happiness and lifted Aziraphale’s hands to his lips, kissing the fingers.

Ana sighed and turned to Newt. “Aren’t they adorable?” Newt had to agree. “We could, snuggle, if you want.”

Newt went red. “Um, yeah, that would….be really nice.” Ana scooted closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, then placed her head on his shoulder. Newt trembled and hugged her close, nuzzling into her hair. “This is really nice.”

“Yeah, it is. You’re such a sweet guy. Newt. It’s why I fell for you. You’re so endearingly shy.”

Newt laughed. “Oh. Most girls find my shyness embarrassing.”

Ana kissed his cheek. “I’m not most girls.”

“No, you certainly aren’t. Think that’s why I love you.” He looked over at Crowley and Aziraphale. “Think they remember we’re here?” Ana looked over at the other couple, who were exchanging soft kisses and caresses.

“I think a literal bomb could fall from the sky and they still wouldn’t notice anything but each other.”

Newt giggled for almost ten minutes.

They were eventually able to get Crowley and Aziraphale’s attention, and the four of them headed back to the campsite. Aziraphale and Anathema gathered food for lunch, and Crowley and Newt arranged the camp chairs in a sort of circle. There was no table, so everyone held their plates in their laps as they dined on sandwiches, crisps, and soda. Ana gulped down her soda. “So I figured tonight we’ll make a fire. I want to introduce you guys to an American camping tradition.”

Aziraphale looked puzzled. “Fire is hardly American.”

Ana threw a piece of ice at him. “Not the fire! Something else. And I’m not telling you what it is, because it’s a surprise.”

Aziraphale frowned and adjusted the crown on his head(Crowley had plopped it on him when they got back to the camp with a grin). “I hope it’s a good one.”

“It will be, I promise.”

They went on one more hike before dusk fell(and Aziraphale gathered more flowers for when the ones in Crowley’s hair started to fade), and when they got back Ana got a fire going before heading into her tent and returning with a large plastic bag. “Right. Here we go.” She pulled out a bag of marshmallows, some chocolate, graham crackers, and four long metal skewers. “S’mores time!”

The others looked completely lost. Ana grinned. “Okay. So. You take a marshmallow.” She opened the bag and pulled one out. “You stick it on the skewer, like this.” She speared the marshmallow. “Make sure it’s on good. Then, hold it over the fire until, well, until you think it looks gooey enough.” Ana toasted her marshmallow for a few minutes. “Then. Take a cracker. Break it in half. Place chocolate on one half, marshmallow on the other. Then, scarf it down.”

She handed over the skewers. “Your turn. And don’t worry if the marshmallow falls in the fire. I got plenty more.”

Aziraphale thought he could rather grow to like S’mores. They were a very messy food, but quite delicious. Crowley licked marshmallow from his fingers, grinning. “Good, love?” Crowley nodded and speared another marshmallow.

Ana licked chocolate from her fingers. “Right. So there is another camping tradition. Ghost stories. Anyone know any real scary ones?” Silence. “No one?”

Aziraphale spoke up. “I know a ghost story. I don’t know if it’s a scary one, but it does have a ghost of a sort. Once, long ago, there was a man who lived in a large house on the edge of the deep, dark forest. The man was alone except for two servants who had been with him all his life. The servants cared for him as if he were their own, and the man lived a good life. But he was lonely, so very lonely. One night, while he was looking out his window, he heard music coming from the forest. It drew him, compelled him. He longed to find where the music was coming from, so he donned his cloak of midnight blue and followed the sound deep into the forest.

“He came to a clearing, and there before him was a creature of such beauty the man knew it was not of this world. The faerie-for it could be nothing else-had fire red hair that flowed down to his waist, and flowers of every description woven into it. He was playing what looked like a harp, and the man felt himself drawn forward. The Fae spotted him and stopped playing.

‘Oh, please don’t stop,’ the man said, eyes filling with tears. ‘The music is so beautiful.’

‘What will you give me,’ the Fae asked in a deep voice, ‘if I continue playing?’

‘Anything.’ the man said. ‘I will give you anything you wish.’

“The Faerie looked grave.” ‘Anything?’

“Anything,” said the man.

“Then sit, and listen.” The Fae ordered. The man sat, letting the music wash over him, closing his eyes.

“He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt something touch his shoulder. ‘You must go now,’ said the faerie. ‘I’ve kept you long enough.’” The man stood. “Farewell.”

The man returned to his home, but he was never the same after that. He stayed up all night, trying to hear the music of the Fae, but he never did. He faded away, became pale and weak with want, and wandered the corridors of his home, a ghost of his former self.”

Ana wiped her eyes. “That’s so sad. What happened to the faerie?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Some say he realized what he had done to the man and came to the manor to make amends. Others say that since he was not human he couldn’t know or care. I prefer the first one, myself.”

Crowley had been quieter than usual throughout the telling. ‘You gave him red hair and flowers. You had him be an artist, maybe not a painter, but still an artist. You...had him...abandon the man. Are you...trying to tell me something?!’

Aziraphale gasped in horror. “Oh, my love, no. That’s the story. The fae having red hair is nothing to do with you! I would never leave you.”

‘Are you afraid of me leaving you?!’

“No! Anthony, I love you more than anything. I am sorry if my story hurt you.”

Crowley slid out of his chair and knelt in front of Aziraphale, placing his head in his lap.’Don’t leave me, Angel, never leave me.’

“Never, my dearest darling love. Never.” Aziraphale said soothingly, petting him. “I think we should head for bed, love. You need more comfort then I can give out here.” They said goodnight to Ana and Newt.

Once in their tent, Aziraphale laid Crowley down on the sleeping bag. “I love you beyond anything, my sweet pet, and I am going to remind you of that.” He pressed his lips to Crowley’s. “You are my world, my life, and my sun.” He kissed Crowley’s eyelids. “You are what I wake for every morning and what gets me through each day.” A kiss to each ear. “You are the breath in my lungs, the beat of my heart, the blood in my veins.”

He kissed the hollow of his love’s throat. “You are the air I breathe. You are my soul’s idol. You are perfection and beauty.” Aziraphale slowly unbuttoned Crowley’s shirt, kissing every inch of exposed skin with loving worship. “I love you more every day, and will love you until the last star fades. I love you as secret things are loved, between the shadow and the soul. I love you more than words could ever say, more than time could ever tell.”

Crowley was sobbing. Aziraphale was making him feel more than he had ever felt. How could he ever have doubted the depths of Master’s love for him? Aziraphale was kissing his legs, murmuring words of praise and devotion into his skin. Crowley was aflame with love, drowning in the fire of it.

Aziraphale kissed his stomach, then made his way back up Crowley’s body. “I want to make love to you, my pet. Undress me.” Crowley obeyed, making sure to take his time, touching and kissing Aziraphale everywhere. Once they were both naked, Aziraphale slid into Crowley, clenching his teeth to keep from crying out at the sensation. “I love you.” He whispered as he moved inside his perfect pet. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” Aziraphale chanted as he thrust in deep and slow. Crowley mewled, his legs locked around Aziraphale’s waist and his hands digging furrows into his back. “I love you I love you I love you I...oh god...I love you!” Aziraphale bit deep into Crowley’s shoulder to keep from screaming as he came. Crowley barely managed to hold back his own cry. Aziraphale kissed the bite. “I love you, Anthony. “

‘I love you too.’ Crowley nuzzled him before pulling him close. ‘Think they heard?’

Aziraphale grinned. “I couldn’t care less if they did.”

“We didn’t hear a thing!” Ana’s amused shout came. Aziraphale and Crowley burst into wicked giggles.

Crowley came awake in the dark and reached for his phone, checking the time. Perfect. He slipped on a pair of trousers and his shirt, then scooted forward on his knees and shook the lump under the sleeping bag.

“Whossat?” Aziraphale mumbled. “Crowley, ‘s late.”

‘I know. Come on.’ Crowley tugged on Aziraphale.

“Wos goin’ on?” Someone, but the blond was adorable when he was sleepy.

‘Surprise. Outside.’

Aziraphale blinked sleep out of his eyes and got dressed, following Crowley out of the tent. “What’s the surprise?”

Crowley pointed to the sky. Aziraphale’s jaw dropped. He had never seen so many stars. “Oh! Oh, they’re beautiful!”

‘Yeah. But that’s not the surprise. That’s coming up in...two minutes.’ Crowley sat down. Aziraphale sat behind him, and Crowley leaned into his touch. ‘Look towards the east.’

Aziraphale looked. “I don’t...” There was a streak of light. Then another, and another, until the sky was filled with them. “Oh my! Crowley, this is amazing! How did you know this was happening?”

‘I don’t just paint outer space because I think it looks pretty, Master. I’m big into astronomy. I keep track of things like meteor showers and stuff like that.’

Aziraphale kissed his neck. “Do you know the constellations?”

‘Yeah.’

Aziraphale sucked a mark where he was kissing. “Show me some?”

Crowley hummed, then pointed with one hand towards the heavens, tracing a shape. ‘That’s Lyra.’ He paused, then took Aziraphale’s hand in his and pointed to another. ‘Serpens.’

“There’s so many of them.” Aziraphale said in awe. Crowley nodded and guided their hands to another one. “Oh! I know that one. The Dipper, right?”

‘Yep.’

“And that one there, that’s Orion, isn’t it?” Another nod. “Well, at least I know the basic ones.”

‘I’ll teach you all of them.’

Aziraphale fell even more in love.

The sun was peeking over the horizon when they returned to their tent. They zipped themselves up into the sleeping bag and drifted off, their arms and legs tangled together.

Anathema was a little annoyed the next morning. “You should have woken me up, I love meteor showers!” Crowley gave her a look, and she smirked. “So was it terribly romantic?” Crowley nodded. “Good.”

Aziraphale and Newt collaborated on a breakfast of pancakes and sausage cooked over the fire. Anathema brewed the coffee, much to everyone’s delight. “So I thought maybe we could pack a proper picnic lunch in the hamper I brought and head west this time. There’s supposed to be some old ruins in that direction.” Ana said as she ate.

“Sounds good,” Aziraphale said. Crowley nodded in agreement. Newt, of course, was willing to do anything Anathema wanted to do.

After breakfast was done, they packed the hamper with sandwich ingredients and cans of soda. Aziraphale agreed to carry it for the first few miles, and hoisted it onto his shoulders. Crowley tried not to swoon at the display of strength. “Shall we?”

They hiked for a while, Aziraphale switching the hamper to his other shoulder at one point. “How much farther to the ruins?”

“Nearly there!” Ana called. Sure enough, they crested a small hill and spotted some rocks sticking out of the ground. “Here we go.”

Aziraphale dropped the hamper with a grateful grunt. “Right. Shall we get set up? Newt, come give me a hand.” Newt came over and they spread the blanket out. “Ana, go see if any of those rocks are small enough to act as anchors.” Ana went over to the rocks and returned a few moments later with a handful, setting them down on the edges of the blanket. “Right. Sandwich assembly is self serve. We’ve got ham, roast beef, turkey, cheese, colored pencils...” Aziraphale paused, then looked over at the grinning Crowley. “Clever little pet. You have a book in here?” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale dug into the basket and pulled it out, handing it and the pencils over to the artist. Crowley set them aside and grabbed bread, ham, and cheese.

‘Don’t want to be a starving artist.’

Aziraphale laughed. “No, of course not.”

Crowley finished his lunch and picked up his sketchbook, flipping to an empty page. He watched Aziraphale talking with Ana and Newt, a smile on his face. Crowley loved him so much. He picked up a pencil and began drawing. The picture was of Aziraphale in profile, a halo surrounding him. Crowley drew in the blue of his eyes, then added a subtle shadow of gold all around. He sketched a bit of the torso then one arm and a hand, then added a bit of jewelry to one of the fingers.

Aziraphale looked over at Crowley. “May I see what you drew?” Crowley gulped and handed the sketchbook over. “Oh. How lovely. But I don’t recognize the ring. Is it one you saw someplace?”

Crowley was crimson. ‘Yeah, kinda. It’s um...a special ring. I wanted to show you a drawing of it first to see if you liked it. Um...’ Crowley sketched furiously for a few minutes. ‘Here.’ He handed Aziraphale the paper.

“Oh!” The ring was quite a nice one. It was a simple gold band, and woven into the band was what looked like.. . “Angel wings?”

‘Yeah. Cause, you know, you’re an angel, and...’

Ana leaned over Aziraphale’s shoulder and examined the drawing. “Crowley, is that what I think it is?”

‘Yeah.’

Ana beamed. Aziraphale stared at the drawing, his eyes going wide. “Darling...is..did you draw me an engagement ring?”

Crowley nodded, still beet red. ‘The...the real one’s back home, didn’t want to risk losing it, but um...wan’ you to marry me.’

Aziraphale tossed the paper aside and tackled Crowley to the ground, kissing him as hard as he could. “Oh my dearest darling love, yes! A million, a thousand times yes.”

‘Don’t...mind that I proposed? Took...charge?’

Aziraphale laughed and kissed him again. “I think, given the circumstances, I can forgive you.”

‘Still my Master?’

“Always, my sweet pet. Always.”


	14. Weddings and Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to get hitched!

Chapter Fourteen: Wedding and Wishes

The minute Crowley and Aziraphale arrived home from the camping trip, Crowley made a beeline for his studio. He dug through the drawer that held his canvases and retrieved a small velvet box, checked to make sure the contents of said box was still there, then raced back out to the living room where Aziraphale was sitting. Crowley knelt in front of him and held out the box. “For me?” Crowley nodded, hope and love shining in his eyes.

Aziraphale took the box and opened it, gasping. The ring was even more precious than he had imagined. The angel wings were lined with diamonds, and inside the band was inscribed ‘To the world’. “Oh, Crowley.” The gallery owner choked back tears of joy, then handed back the ring and extended his hand. “You put it on me.”

Shaking with happiness, Crowley slipped the ring onto Aziraphale’s finger. It was a perfect fit. Crowley stared at it for a few seconds, then surged up and into Aziraphale’s lap, kissing him with every ounce of love he possessed. Aziraphale kissed back, wrapping his arms tight around the artist. Eventually, the need for air became too much to ignore. Crowley reluctantly broke the kiss, his forehead pressed against the blond’s. ‘You’re my fiance.’

“I am. That’s such a wonderful word. But I want to be your husband, so we need to start planning. Where do you want to have the wedding?”

Crowley laid his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder, humming as Aziraphale began carding his fingers through his hair. ‘The gallery. It’s where we met.’

Aziraphale beamed. He had, of course, had weddings at the gallery many times before, but never his own. “Sounds perfect. And speaking of, I’m going to make you a permanent artist.”

Crowley gaped at him. ‘You’re not doing the New Artist anymore?’

“Oh, no. I’m still going to do that. The room will be changed, that’s all. I’ve got some empty space upstairs that I can have cleaned out.”

‘The gallery has an upstairs?’

Aziraphale chuckled at the look on Crowley’s face. “Yes, it has an upstairs. It’s mainly used for storage, but as I said I can get people in to clean it up so it can be used as exhibition space. It was originally a flat.”

‘Oh.’ Crowley was still a bit surprised at the revelation. ‘So. Obviously, you aren’t inviting any of your family.’

“Not a bloody chance in Hell.” Aziraphale snorted. Crowley giggled.

‘But we are inviting Mum.’

“Naturally. Do you want to text her or shall I call?” Crowley held up two fingers. Aziraphale picked his phone up off the coffee table and scrolled to Liliana’s number. After a few minutes, she picked up.

“Hello?”

Aziraphale pulled Crowley close. “Liliana, it’s Aziraphale.”

“Yes, I recognized the name.”

Aziraphale smiled at the dry sarcasm. “Well, I called with some news. Crowley and I are getting married.” He had to hold the phone away from his ear to keep from going deaf at Liliana’s scream of joy. “I uh, take it you approve?”

“You bloody believe I do! When and where?”

“Well, we’re getting married at my gallery, but we’re not quite sure of the date. I can promise it will be within the next few weeks, though. And of course you’re invited.”

“I am so happy for you both. Tell Anthony I love him.”

“I will.” Aziraphale hung up, looking over at Crowley, who had a puzzled expression on. “What?”

‘Weeks?’

Aziraphale kissed him. “Darling, when you own the venue the wedding is going to be at, it cuts time down considerably. I also am in good standing with several restaurants and clothing shops. Oh, which reminds me. Do you want to wear a wedding dress or a suit?”

‘Can I do both?’

“Of course! I’ll get in touch with some people I know and have them make you a custom wedding outfit. Now, who do you want to perform the ceremony? I’m not religious, and I know you aren’t either, so that rules out a priest or pastor. We could have someone from the registry office do it, but that’s so very impersonal, and I refuse to look for someone online.” Aziraphale frowned, then brightened. “Wait a second.” He pulled up his contacts.

“Madam Tracy draws aside the veil every Thursday at seven.” A mystic-sounding voice came from over the phone. Aziraphale bit back a laugh.

“Tracy, it’s Aziraphale.”

“Oh, hello dear! How are you?”

“Wonderful. Listen, are you still licensed to do marriages?”

“I certainly am, Ducky. Did my marriage to the Sergeant. Why do you ask?”

Aziraphale couldn’t help the grin. “Crowley and I are getting married, and I was hoping you could...”

“Yes.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Well, um, thank you. We’re having it at the gallery, and we haven’t chosen a time yet. I’ll call you as soon as we have one. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, and congratulations.”

Aziraphale placed the phone down. “Well, that’s sorted. We really should pick a date, though.”

Crowley thought, then grinned. ‘How about two weeks from tomorrow?’

“Why that day?”

Crowley lifted his head and gazed at Aziraphale with devotion. ‘That was the day you made me yours. The first time I realized that I belonged to you.’

“Oh, my sweet pet. I love you so much.” Aziraphale whispered before capturing Crowley’s lips. “My perfect one.” The kiss grew heated, and Crowley slid into Aziraphale’s lap, sitting astride him. Aziraphale tilted his head back, and Crowley sucked kisses into his neck. “Love you so much, my perfect pet.” Crowley sighed and rutted against him. Aziraphale murmured his name. “So eager, my love. I want your mouth on me, my darling. Pleasure Master with your mouth.”

Crowley slid to the floor and undid Aziraphale’s trousers. He took Aziraphale’s cock in hand and licked it, smiling to himself at his master’s moan of pleasure. This was what Crowley lived for, what he was meant for. To be on his knees in front of this perfect being, bringing him pleasure. He kissed the tip, lapping up the beads of moisture that had already started to gather, then swallowed him down to the hilt. Aziraphale’s fingers dug almost painfully into his scalp, and Crowley mewled in delight. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard, and above him Aziraphale howled. Crowley began sucking at a rapid pace, taking Aziraphale in deep.

Aziraphale buried his hands in his love’s perfect hair and began fucking into his mouth. “You take me so well, my darling. Your mouth was made for my cock, and your body was made for me, for me to worship, to use, to fuck. You belonged to me from the very start, didn’t you?” Crowley nodded, whining around Master’s cock. “We were always meant to be. You were always mine, my pet, my sweet slut, my perfect demon, my world.”

Crowley trembled from the praise, his own cock straining to get out of the tight trousers. He whined in need, squeezing his leg.

Aziraphale was by now acutely attuned to the various noises Crowley made. “Is your cock aching, my love?” A high pitched keen. “Can you hold out until I come, my darling?” Crowley nodded. “Good little pet. So good, so beautiful...I’m close, my darling...” Aziraphale thrust once, twice, and came down Crowley’s throat. “Oh, my love.” He grabbed Crowley’s armpits and lifted him into his lap, kissing him. Crowley whined, rutting against him. “Shh. Patience, my sweet pet. Master’s going to take care of you.”

Aziraphale stood up, holding Crowley bridal style, and carried him into the bedroom, setting him down on the bed. “Undress for Master, my love.” Crowley stripped out of his clothes as fast as he could, then lay back and spread his legs wide. His cock was hard as iron and leaking from the tip. Aziraphale undressed, then went over to their wardrobe and got out several lengths of rope. Crowley shivered in delightful anticipation. Aziraphale walked over, running the rope between his fingers. “Knees.”

Crowley scrambled to his knees, his head bowed. “Hands out in front.” Crowley held his hands out, and Aziraphale tied them in a beautiful knot. “I know how very much you love Shibari, my pet, and I’m going to make you look so beautiful.” Aziraphale said as he passed the ropes over Crowley’s chest, tying intricate knots before moving behind him and doing the same to his back. He wrapped the rope around Crowley’s legs. “Are you comfortable?” Crowley nodded. “Good.” He stood on the mattress and pulled down his rig, expertly tying the rope to it. “Look at you.” Aziraphale whispered in awe. “So perfect.” He ran his hands down Crowley’s chest and stomach to his thighs. “My perfect pet.” Aziraphale sighed before kneeling in front of him and taking his cock into his mouth. Crowley yelped and tried to thrust forward, but the ropes held him secure. He settled for burying his tied hands into Aziraphale’s cotton soft hair as his master sucked him into sweet oblivion.

Aziraphale pulled off and licked his lips. His pet tasted so very sweet. He kissed Crowley’s stomach, then scooted so he was behind his love. Aziraphale pressed against his back, letting his cock rest against the cleft of Crowley’s perfect ass. “I’m going to loosen the rope enough so you can open up for me, my sweet slut. The bottom half of your legs will stay tied, as well as your hands. I am not going to touch your cock. You are to come only when I give the order.”

Crowley moaned. Aziraphale undid the ropes, spreading Crowley open with his hands before pressing inside. Crowley moaned louder. “Good boy.”

Aziraphale held him in place with his hands on Crowley’s thighs as he fucked into him, hot words of obscene praise pouring from his mouth in a flood. Crowley sobbed in joy, his entire body shaking. “Doing so wonderfully, suffering so well, my perfect pet, my darling fiance, my one and only love.” Crowley choked on a sob. “How you must ache, my pet. Hold on for me, I promise it will be over soon, you’re doing so well. So wonderful.”

Crowley was on fire, he was burning with need, and he was going to explode. Every nerve in his body was singing with need. He keened high in his throat. Aziraphale was touching him everywhere except where he desperately wanted to be touched. This was torture, it was torment, it was heaven, it was paradise, he needed to come, but Master had given orders, and Crowley lived to obey him, and..

“Come for me, Pet.” Aziraphale growled into his ear, and Crowley screamed his release to the Heavens, coming hard, his entire body shaking with the effort. Aziraphale took him in hand, pumping, and Crowley howled and somehow came again, just as hard.

Crowley slumped, held up by the ropes. Aziraphale unhooked him from the rig and began the ritual of untying him, pressing kisses into every bit of his skin. Crowley blinked, eyes glazed over in submission and love. Aziraphale left him kneeling on the bed and put the ropes away, then came back over. Crowley sighed as his cheek was lovingly caressed. “You did so well, my love. Now come along, we need to get cleaned up.” Crowley hummed and followed Aziraphale into the bathroom. He knelt on his mat, still humming and swaying a bit. Aziraphale filled the tub, adding in some apple scented bath oil, then guided Crowley into the warm water. Crowley placed his head on Aziraphale’s chest.

‘I love you, Master.’

“I love you, Pet.”

Crowley purred, nuzzling against him. ‘Still be Master when we’re married?’

“What do you think?” Crowley nodded.

‘Still be Master.’

Aziraphale washed Crowley, taking his time. “Darling? What you think of me getting a tattoo?”

Crowley blinked. ‘What of?’

Aziraphale blushed. “Well, I was thinking about it, and I’d rather like one of that flaming sword you painted, with the serpent wrapped around it, to symbolize you and I.”

There was nothing for Crowley to do but kiss him until the water in the tub got cold.

The next day, after informing all their guests and Tracy that the wedding would take place at Fell Gallery on the fifteenth at one o clock, and after Aziraphale made a few phone calls of his own and secured food and entertainment, they went to Saville Row where Crowley found the perfect wedding outfit consisting of a women’s shirt, a tuxedo jacket, and a dark red pair of women’s trousers. ‘Gonna be male presenting, but wanted to dress in both.’ He told Aziraphale.

“That’s perfectly fine, darling. Now, about the tattoo?”

Crowley grinned. ‘The guy that did mine is about five blocks from here.’ They walked down the street, fingers linked.

Crowley came to a stop in front of a building with the sign ‘Twisted Dragon Tattoos’. ‘Here we go.’ He pushed the door open and ushered Aziraphale inside.

The teen girl behind the counter looked up. “Tony! Hey! Here for another tat?”

Crowley shook his head and pointed to Aziraphale. The girl didn’t even blink. “First time here, sir?”

“Is it so obvious?”

Crowley grinned, then pointed to the back. The girl smiled. “Yeah, Tom’s here. You want him to do your friend?” Crowley nodded. “TOM! Up front!”

A very large man covered in tattoos came up, glaring at her. “Damn it, Cassie, I am not...Tony! Hey, man.” Tom came over and shook Crowley’s hand. “Who’s your friend?”

“Aziraphale Fell. And I am his fiance, thank you.” His hand was crushed in an iron grip. Tom beamed.

“Pleased to meet you. You here for a tattoo?”

“Yes, I am.” Aziraphale dug into his pocket and pulled out the drawing Crowley had done. “I’d like this, please.”

“Kay, I can do that. Where?”

Aziraphale faltered. “Oh. Um...where would be best?”

Tom examined the paper. “This level of detail? Probably your back. How big do you want the wings?”

“Oh, um...as big as you think would work, I guess. I’m totally new to this.”

Tom nodded. “Okay, come on back and we’ll get started. Tony, you know how long this sort of thing can take, so if you need to run some errands, I can text you when I’m done.”

Crowley shook his head and sat in one of the chairs. Tom nodded. “Okay. Come along, Mr. Fell.”

“Aziraphale.”

“Right. Come on then.”

Crowley lounged and scrolled through his phone as he waited. He checked his email, deleting the spam, then scrolled to his contacts and pulled up Anathema’s number.

Crowley: Guess where I am?

Witch Girl: No clue.

Crowley: Dragon.

Witch Girl: What are you getting this time?

Crowley: I’m not.

Witch Girl: Then...NO WAY! AZIRAPHALE IS GETTING A TATTOO?

Crowley: Yep.

Witch Girl: I demand pics ASAP.

Crowley: Will do.

Aziraphale’s tattoo took four hours to complete. Crowley looked up from his phone as the blond came out, shirt draped over his arm. Crowley whimpered, and gestured for Aziraphale to turn around.

The tattoo covered his upper back, every detail that Crowley had drawn clearly visible. Crowley came over and gently touched the sensitive skin. Aziraphale looked over his shoulder. “What do you think?”

‘Perfect.’

Aziraphale sighed in relief. “Oh, good. I was hoping that was the case. Now I’ve been given instructions on how to keep it from getting infected, and also some special soap. You’ll be able to help me with that?” Crowley nodded. “Lovely.” Aziraphale slipped his shirt on, not bothering to button it. “I am quite famished. Shall we go get some dinner?”

Later on, Crowley kept his promise and sent several pics of Aziraphale’s new tattoo to Ana, who went into raptures over it.

**Two Weeks Later**

Aziraphale adjusted his tie for the tenth time. Newt, who was acting as Best Man, shook his head in amusement. “You look fine, Aziraphale.”

“I don’t want to look fine, I want to look perfect. I’m marrying the most perfect person in existence, fine isn’t going to cut it.” Aziraphale said peevishly. Newt chuckled.

“Relax. You look great. Now come on, it’s time to get married.” 

Aziraphale wiggled in glee and followed Newt out of his office. The wedding ceremony was being held in the largest room in the gallery, which by no coincidence happened to be the room where Crowley’s work was exhibited. Surrounded by the fruits of his soon to be spouse’s labor, Aziraphale felt the tension leave his shoulders. He was giddy with happiness. 

At a nod from Anathema the small band he had hired struck up The Wedding March. Aziraphale straightened and looked towards the door. He nearly fainted when it opened and Crowley came gliding in, a broad smile on his face. Aziraphale watched, transfixed, as he came up the ‘aisle’ to stand in front of him. 

Tracy cleared her throat. “Friends, we are gathered here to celebrate the union of Aziraphale Fell and Anthony Crowley...”

Liliana, who was sitting in front, blew her nose loudly into her handkerchief. “Sorry. Go on.”

“Marriage is a sacred and special bond between two people, and the bond these two share runs deep. Anthony, I understand you’ve written something for Aziraphale that you wish him to read?” 

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale looked surprised as Crowley handed him a sheet of paper, indicating that he should read it out loud. 

“Aziraphale. My whole life, I hated that I couldn’t speak. While I could make myself known well enough through writing, signing, and my art, I never felt like anyone ever truly knew me. I was always the dummy, the mute. Then you came along, and without any effort, you knew me. You saw me, saw past my muteness to the person that I am. You showed me a world I’ve never dreamed of. You make me feel more alive and loved than I have ever felt before. You are my angel, my world, and my reason for being, and I cannot wait for you to be my husband.”

Aziraphale was sobbing by the time he finished. “Oh, Anthony. I...I’m not as eloquent as you, nowhere near, but my love, you coming into my life was the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I cannot wait to be your husband either.”

Tracy sniffled. “Right. We’d better get on with it. Aziraphale Fell, do you take this man to be your spouse, to have and to hold until death part you?”

“I do.”

Anthony Crowley, do you take this man to be your husband, to have and to hold until death part you?”

Crowley nodded. 

“Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you married. Kiss already!”

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by the lapels and pulled him into a searing, heart stopping kiss. 

Much later, as they lay in each others’ arms, Aziraphale spoke. “I was thinking about our honeymoon. My grandparents had this lovely cottage by the sea. What would you say to going there for a month?”

Crowley hummed. Aziraphale ran his hands up and down his spine, and Crowley purred. 

“Oh, and I have plans to make you co owner of the gallery as well, and I was thinking maybe you and I could adopt a pet, I do love cats, but dogs are great too, and we could maybe go on a trip to the continent, and oh, Crowley, I’m so very happy.”

Crowley leaned up and kissed him. ‘So am I.’ 

In the fullness of time, they would go to the cottage, and love it so much that it would eventually become their permanent residence. They would have a garden, tended to by Crowley. They would adopt both a dog and a cat. Aziraphale named the dog Oscar, after his favorite writer, and Crowley named the cat Siren, because her meow was incredibly loud. Siren and Oscar got on great. They went to Europe, to Italy, and all over. Aziraphale  learned how to bake. Crowley kept painting, only now he did it as a hobby, as they had more than enough money to live comfortably. 

Through good and bad, through ups and downs, they never left each others side. When asked what their secret was, Aziraphale would always smile and say the same thing. 

“We’re ineffable.” 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [Yvesriba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yvesriba/pseuds/Yvesriba) Log in to view. 




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